


Purpose

by Snailhair



Series: Purpose [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Violence, Angelic Grace, Angst, Baby Shower, Bobby being a badass, Cas worried about his purpose, Crowley and Feelings, Daddy Issues, Dean and Cas becoming parents, Dean being romantic, Destiel - Freeform, Dickie being cute, Feels, Fluff, Gabriel being a badass, Happy Ending, Humor, Implied Torture, M/M, Mpreg, Pregnancy, Sabriel - Freeform, Smut, The Beatles - Freeform, Unplanned Pregnancy, Valentine's Day, angel attacks, celestial pregnancy, established relationships - Freeform, hints of Crobby, lots of baby stuff, sex during pregnancy, the boys being hunted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 19:45:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 66,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11539176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snailhair/pseuds/Snailhair
Summary: After a passionate Valentine's night, Dean and Castiel find themselves in a delicate situation. While the scramble to prepare for their child's impending arrival, Dean and Cas - with help from Sam, Gabriel, and Bobby - must also deal with an outside force that is threatening to harm them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, guys! :D As you can see, this story is a Destiel Mpreg fic. I tried to stay as close to canon as possible with this story, especially when explaining the function of pregnancies and such. Also, I will warn you now that this is probably the single most angst-filled story I've ever written (to date.) But as always, I promise it will all end on a happy note. :) This story is the beginning of a very long series which I am still in the middle of writing and I really hope that you all enjoy the opening act! Thank you so much for reading and commenting! :D

“Let me get this straight,” Sam grumbled, narrowing his eyes, “You want me to somehow convince Cas to stay here with me and Gabe while you run off to some random place in the woods just to set up a freakin' date?”

Dean grinned widely as he quickly stowed a couple of items into the trunk of the Impala. He knew his little brother wouldn't approve of his idea, but at this point, he didn't care. Dean had this whole thing planned out months ago. Everything, right down to the very last detail. There was no way he was gonna let anything mess this up now. Especially not his little brother's bitchiness.

“Forty-five minutes, Sammy,” Dean assured as he stuffed a huge blanket into the trunk, “That's all I'm asking for. One hour tops.”

“But, Dean, It's Valentine's day,” Sam whined quietly, flashing a worried glance toward the motel room a few feet away, “I have plans of my own, you know! What am I supposed to do, huh? Postpone my whole holiday?!”

“Just for forty-five minutes,” Dean smirked.

Sam exhaled an angered breath and folded both of his arms across his chest. The dude was doing a perfect impression of a fed-up housewife. Acidic glare and all.

“Have you ever tried to tell _Gabriel_ to wait forty-five minutes, Dean? Because I have. And it doesn't work,” the kid sneered.

Dean finished loading the rest of the stuff in a blur before standing up straight to face his brother. He really wanted Sam to understand how important this was. Having this evening with Cas really meant a lot to him...

“Sam, I need you to be my wing-man on this one,” Dean said carefully, patting his brother's high shoulder, “Look, if you just keep Cas here for forty-five minutes, then I swear you won't see either of us until tomorrow. That means you and blondie get the whole motel room to yourselves tonight. Sound good?”

Sammy's glare softened almost instantly. His head swiveled back around to glance at the motel room at their side with wondrous eyes. Dean could definitely see the cogs turning in his little brother's head. It seemed like Sam didn't even think about having the room – and Gabriel – all to himself. And while the thought of them being alone made Dean a little uncomfortable, he knew that it would make Sam happy. The younger brother eventually looked back to the older and huffed a breath of annoyance.

“Fine,” Sam spat, “I'll do it. But how exactly to you expect me to keep Cas here when you go? You know he's not going to want to leave your side if -”

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean nearly jumped at the sound of Cas's voice. The angel had popped up out of nowhere next to the Winchesters in the parking lot, making them both gasp in shock. The moment he saw Cas's bright blue eyes, Dean quickly reached over and slammed the trunk shut, hiding the contents inside. Cas stared curiously at the trunk for a second as if he didn't understand why Dean shut it so fast. Shit! That was close! Cas almost ruined the surprise!

“Are you planning to go somewhere, Dean?” the angel asked, seeming confused.

“Uh, yes! Actually, I am,” Dean said quickly, digging around in his pockets for the keys, “I have to, um, go and get, uh...”

“Motor oil?” Sam offered.

“Motor oil,” Dean repeated, quickly tossing his brother a secret wink of appreciation, “Yeah, I've gotta go get some oil for for the Impala. She's a quart low.”

After Dean's terrible lie, Cas suddenly stepped forward as if he was about to go around Dean and venture to the passenger side.

“I'll accompany you, then,” the angel stated, sounding matter-of-fact.

“No!” Dean gasped, grabbing both of Cas's arms to stop him.

The look of confusion – and slight heartbreak – that flashed across the angel's face made Dean's stomach turn with guilt. Ugh! He hated seeing that look on Cas's face... But Dean really wanted this to be a surprise. And in order to keep it that way, he had to be apart from Cas just long enough to set it up.

“N – No, baby,” Dean denied carefully, feeling his own face grow warm with nervousness, “You should just stick around here with Sam and Gabe. It's not gonna take me very long. Besides, if anything happens, I'll just call for you. Okay?”

The pained expression never dulled on Cas's face. The guy looked absolutely devastated, like he thought Dean didn't want to spend time with him. But it wasn't true! Dean _did_ want to spend time with him! That was actually the whole point of him leaving right now...

“Very well,” Cas mumbled under his breath, hesitantly backing out of Dean's grasp, “I will wait for you here, Dean. Please be careful.”

Dean swallowed a bit as he watched Cas back away, still feeling guilty. Man, he really needed to get this ball rolling so that Cas wouldn't feel so bad. Dean quickly retrieved his keys and waved goodbye to his brother before walking up to peck a quick kiss to Cas's cheek. The man darted for the driver's seat of his Impala afterward, where he paused by the door to give his angel one more look.

“Be listening for me, Cas,” Dean requested before getting into the car.

Sam and Cas were standing next to each other in Dean's rear view mirror as he started up the engine and threw it in drive. Sammy was ushering Cas back into the motel room by the time Dean reached the pavement of the open road. And Cas was watching the Impala pull away the whole time, confused blue eyes glued to the car and pink lips tilted downward with disappointment. Dean had to force himself to face the road as the Impala pulled out of the parking lot and and headed west. _Don't worry, Cas_ , Dean thought to himself, _It'll be worth it. I promise_.

Over the past few months, Dean and Cas had grown really close. It all started on some random Sunday, when Cas was leafing through one of Dean's old Playboy's and asking personal questions. After that intimate conversation, Dean actually started looking at Cas in a new light. The guy wasn't just some random nerdy dude with wings anymore. Somehow, Cas had suddenly become really _attractive_. And it wasn't long before Dean found himself teaching Cas how to kiss. And showing him how to have sex... and saying the words 'I love you' with absolute honesty. As of right now, Dean was pretty sure that their relationship was bordering on 'commitment' territory. Which meant it was time to either pull out or go all in. And for the first time in his life, Dean was dead-set on going all in.

It recently occurred to Dean, when he spared a glance at a calendar, that he and Cas had been having sex for months but never went on an actual date. Of course, Dean was always the type of person that liked to skip dinner and go straight to 'dessert' – but with Cas, it was different. Dean liked their slow build up to sex almost as much as he liked the sex itself. Just spending time with him was fun. And now, it was Valentine's Day; the one day of the year that made it almost mandatory to go on a date with the person you loved the most. And Dean wanted to surprise Cas, to give him something special for their first actual 'date' together.

The Winchesters were currently in southern California, wrapping up the loose ends of a vampire case, and the weather outside was perfect. Warm and sunny without a cloud in the sky. The sun was starting to set in the west already, making Dean strain his eyes against the orange light as he drove. He had a certain place in mind for this occasion. A scenic overlook right off the highway. All that stuff in the trunk was going to be put to good use there.

It was only about twenty minutes before Dean reached the exit. The overlook was some two or three miles into the woods at the end of a dirt road. He and Sammy had stopped here once to eat lunch and Dean always remembered its location because it was strikingly beautiful. He pulled the Impala over at the dead end and cut off the engine before jumping out to pop open the trunk and pull out all the stuff. He was so thankful that no one was around to watch him cart the massive load into the woods. Geez, someone might have thought that he was trying to dump a body or something, but he wasn't. At least, not today, anyway...

With the bright orange glow of sunset to light the way, Dean walked down a little path from his Impala until he made it to the very edge of the overlook. Trees were scattered everywhere, but they were parted just ahead to reveal the amazing view of a glistening river and gorgeous California mountains. Dean sat his pile of goodies on a nearby picnic table in order to sort through it.

First, he grabbed the quilt he had stolen from Bobby's house and fanned it out on the ground, covering a large space with plaid patch-work fabric. He tossed a couple of pillows next to each other at the top too, before reaching over to grab the bouquet of red roses. Yes. Dean had actually purchased an entire bouquet of red roses. But he only wanted to use them for decoration. The man began destroying the flowers, ripping entire heads of them off to pull the petals apart and sprinkle them over the quilt. The red petals fell all around the plaid blanket, making it look extra inviting and sexy. Dean smiled a little bit at his work, feeling smug. Ah, yeah. This looked just like a scene from a movie or something. Cas was gonna love this...

After finishing the blanket, Dean walked over to grab the small cooler. It was about the size of a large lunchbox, just big enough to contain a few beers and some ice. He placed the cooler on the ground next to the quilt before reaching over to grab the tiny radio off the picnic table. He figured that it might help to set the mood if he filled the air with some music. The radio stared playing some soft R&B as Dean angled it toward the blanket. The quiet sound echoed through the trees, making the place sound just as good as it looked.

Dean took a few steps back and glanced over his work, feeling proud. Hell yeah. It was perfect. The scenery, the lighting, the sounds – everything was flawless. It was the best place in the world to have an actual first date. Dean's eyes flickered over to the picnic table, where he saw Cas's gift sitting by itself. The man quickly dashed over to grab it and tuck it behind his back before taking a bracing breath. This was it. It was time.

The only thing he had left to do was call Cas.

* * *

Castiel stood by the window of the Winchesters' motel room and stared out at the parking lot with yearning. Behind him, Sam and Gabriel were engaging in some type of board game, but Castiel was not concerned with it. He was too preoccupied by Dean's absence to take part in such playful activities.

“Ha ha! You're gonna lose, kiddo! I own _all_ of the railroads, now,” Gabriel taunted, flashing a set of cards at Sam.

“You own most of the board, Gabe. I'm already losing,” Sam grumbled, even though he was smiling.

Castiel tried his best to ignore Sam and Gabriel's conversation as he watched for the Impala. It was very unusual for Dean to refuse Castiel's company. After everything they had done over the past few months – sharing secrets, showing affection, engaging in passionate intercourse – Castiel assumed that he and Dean had become inseparable. But perhaps that was not the case. Perhaps Dean still required time alone and needed –

“ _Hey, Cas,_ ” Dean's voice suddenly prayed, “ _I need you._ ”

Without hesitation, Castiel instantly flew from the motel room to Dean's current location. The angel landed in some sort of wooded area where the sun was sinking behind a set of large mountains in the distance. He immediately searched around for Dean, fearing that the man was in trouble. But alas, Dean was perfectly fine. Castiel found the man standing near a picnic table with both hands behind his back, wearing a smile with excitement twinkling in his jade eyes.

Castiel took a cautious step closer, feeling a bit confused. Why was Dean here, in this wooded place? Wasn't he supposed to be purchasing motor oil for the Impala? And why was there a blanket laying on the ground? Why was it covered in flower petals? Castiel's sight ventured back to Dean's face, where he saw secret pride lurking in the man's expression. It appeared as though Dean was carefully monitoring Castiel's reaction, watching the angel take in his surroundings with wonder.

“What do you think?” Dean smirked, bringing a single hand forward to gesture to the space around them.

Castiel glanced around once more, taking in the sight of it all. Why did Dean want his opinion of this place? Was _Dean_ responsible for its comforting appearance?

“Did... did _you_ do this, Dean?” the angel asked.

“Yep. I sure did,” Dean replied pridefully, easing closer.

“Why?” Castiel asked.

“Because it's Valentine's day,” Dean explained.

Castiel eyed Dean's form as it drew closer in the space. While he was glad to see Dean behaving so happily, Cas was still unsure of what exactly was going on.

“I thought you needed motor oil for the Impala, Dean,” Castiel mumbled.

Dean let out a dramatic sigh and rolled his eyes. With one hand still lodged behind his back, the man used his free hand to reach out and take hold of Castiel's coat. He tugged the angel close enough to rest their foreheads together.

“No, Cas,” Dean uttered, smiling, “I came here to make a cozy spot for us in the woods.”

“Why, Dean?” Castiel asked, curious.

“So I could show you this awesome view,” the man answered.

With a gentle pull, Dean spun Castiel to the side, letting him face the sinking sun once again. It was barely peeking out from between the mountains in the distance, causing the golden-orange light to glisten on the river far below the edge of the cliff. Castiel stared out at the majestic sight of his Father's creation with admiration, feeling in awe of its utter grandeur. Dean was correct. This view was definitely 'awesome.'

The angel felt the man suddenly pressing at his back. Dean's free hand snaked up the front of Castiel's torso to hug him from behind while the two of them stared out at the lovely view. Soon, Dean's wet lips were moving against Cas's ear.

“And give you this,” he whispered.

Dean's other hand came forward to offer Castiel a sizable object. It was a cylinder-shaped item, wrapped in yellow tissue paper and adorned with a white ribbon. After giving Dean a curious glance, Castiel carefully took the object from Dean's hand and looked it over with wonder. Why was Dean giving him something? What was it for?

“Open it,” Dean urged, still holding Castiel from behind.

Though he was a bit bewildered by everything that was taking place, Castiel did what Dean requested and gently tore the yellow tissue paper from around the solid object. Before the angel knew it, he had revealed a large jar of honey; nearly a pint of it, filling the container to maximum capacity. The golden liquid was almost glowing as the sun shined through the clear glass, illuminating the amber contents. A large square of raw honeycomb had been placed inside the jar as well, giving the thick liquid something to cling to. Castiel's jaw lowered in surprise while his eyes searched the beautiful jar of nature-made goodness. It was so lovely! Where did Dean acquire such a perfect specimen of God's handiwork?

“I found it at that farmer's market back in Nebraska a few days ago,” Dean whispered, answering Castiel's unasked question, “Do you like it?”

“I love it, Dean,” Castiel breathed with honesty, turning to meet his eyes, “But, why did you get it for me?”

Dean's smirk softened in the fiery orange glow of sunset.

“Because I love you, Cas,” he answered, running his hands along the front of the angel's torso, “and because this is our first date and I want you to be happy.”

“Date?” Castiel repeated.

The angel had never heard the word 'date' used in such a context. Dean seemed to understand Castiel's confusion because he quickly offered an explanation.

“Yeah, a date. You know, it's where two people go somewhere and do something fun,” Dean replied.

Castiel absorbed this information, letting his mind draw a conclusion on the matter.

“Do something fun... You mean, like intercourse?” he almost whispered.

The humor in Dean's eyes seemed to disappear. He glanced along Castiel's entire face as he briefly licked his lips. Arousal seemed to have surfaced in his expression.

“Yeah,” the man nodded, “I mean, if that's what you want to do.”

Castiel could feel his own heart quickening in speed as he stared into Dean's beautiful emerald eyes. Yes. Sharing intercourse with Dean was Castiel's favorite thing to do. And if a 'date' truly consisted of going somewhere and doing something fun, then being here and having sex with Dean seemed like the most perfect date of all.

Instead of speaking his reply, Castiel simply leaned closer to capture Dean's open mouth. In the warmth of dwindling sunlight, Dean's fingers wiggled their way between the buttons of Cas's white shirt to tease the angel's bare skin as they kissed. Castiel turned around to embrace Dean fully as he slipped the jar of honey into one of his coat pockets. He shrugged out of the coat and carefully lowered it to the ground afterward, making sure his new gift was safe before their intercourse took place. Castiel knew that he and Dean tended to become quite boisterous during sex and he didn't want the fragile jar to break.

More and more clothing began to disappear from their bodies as Dean guide Castiel closer to the rose-covered quilt behind him. By the time they tumbled to the blanketed ground, both of them were topless; bare chests exposed and pants tightened by growing erections. Castiel noticed that soft music was playing nearby as he turned to look toward a radio. Dean continued kissing the angel's mouth and neck, showering him with heated affection in the first stages of their intercourse.

But Castiel was staring hard at the radio for a moment, feeling slightly ashamed. Dean had truly made this date perfect. He had even considered the sound quality of their rendezvous and planned to play music to fill the noiseless void. Dean had been so considerate of everything – and Castiel had not contributed anything at all. The angel felt terrible as he felt Dean suckling at his earlobe. Perhaps he needed to do something for Dean as well, so that the man would feel just as loved...

“I want to do something for you, Dean,” Castiel suddenly announced, sitting up to face him.

By now, Dean had freed Castiel's erection and it was laying heavily on the man's bare stomach below. Cas was straddling Dean on the quilt as the sunlight dimmed around them. Dean blinked up at Castiel questioningly when he rested both hands on the angel's hips.

“Uh, okay,” the man mumbled, “What is it?”

Castiel gulped and flashed a glance around. Oh. He had not thought this far into his plan. Castiel knew he wanted to do something for Dean, but he didn't know what that something was. Perhaps Dean could offer him some suggestions...

“What would _you_ like, Dean?” the angel replied carefully, reaching down to caress Dean's warm cheek.

The man's throat quivered with a gulp as he eyed Castiel with feverishness. His pupils were dilated, giving Castiel the impression that he had already thought of his answer. Dean took the time to give Cas's thumb a wet kiss before speaking.

“... How 'bout you show me your wings?” he requested quietly.

The angel blinked down at the man in surprise. Wings? Dean wanted to see Castiel's wings? _During intercourse_? The very thought put Castiel on edge. Humans were unable to withstand the sight of an angels true form. The mere act of displaying angelic grace caused humans physical, irreversible damage. And Castiel couldn't bear the thought of it happening to Dean...

But even as Castiel thought this, Dean was already tugging at his own pants; desperately trying to remove them so that their bodies could merge. The angel shifted on the blanket to allow Dean more room as he quickly debated the options in his mind. Yes, showing his grace was dangerous. But perhaps Castiel could only show a small fraction of it. If the only thing Dean wanted was to see Castiel's wings, then maybe the angel would only have to expose a tiny bit of his true form. Just enough for Dean to behold his feathered appendages.

With the removal of the rest of his clothes – and a generous amount of saliva – Castiel quickly straddled Dean's hips once more and guided the man's erection inside his tight entrance. Dean's lovely eyes drank in the sight of himself entering Castiel as the angel eased down onto the swollen shaft. They had performed this act many times and Castiel was quite used to the sensation of being stretched open by Dean's hard member – but his discomfort was more potent now than it ever had been before. He was so worried about accidentally harming Dean; so unsure of his own ability to keep himself contained. _Do not fear_ , the angel thought to himself, _You will not harm Dean. Everything will be fine_. Wishing to heed his own internal advice, Castiel bounced a few times in Dean's lap... before carefully allowing his grace to shine through his vessel.

The radio near them began to emit static when Castiel's true form came forth. His body began to glow, the air began to move, and the tree limbs began to rattle at the precipice of his arrival. Below him, Dean's mouth had fallen open, gasping as he watched Castiel emerge from his vessel. The angel continued to bounce in Dean's lap, remembering to stimulate the man's erection as he carefully stretched out his wings.

“Holy shit,” Dean breathed erotically.

Castiel wanted to agree with Dean's statement but he was too preoccupied with his own being. The angel could suddenly feel _everything_. He could feel the dust partials swirling in the air in his lungs, and the tiniest shift of each and every hair moving on his body, and the wind rushing through every feather of his wings. He could feel every line and ridge of Dean's fingerprints pressing into his skin and hear the man's heart beating against his ribcage – but most of all, Castiel could feel Dean's veined and throbbing erection piercing his angelic body with full force.

“ _Ah_!” Castiel cried, his angelic voice echoing through the trees, “ _Dean_!”

The booming sound caused the radio to explode near them, briefly filling the space with electronic debris. Dean flinched away from it before sitting up on the quilt. They were both moving, now; Castiel bouncing and Dean thrusting, creating a steady and pleasureful rhythm. The angel's head fell back in utter ecstasy at the feeling of Dean's strong arm circling his back to hug him close. Ah! This felt so wonderful! Dean was thrusting so hard, and whimpering with such arousal, and smearing his wet plump lips all over Castiel's flat chest. It was all so erotic that Castiel found himself on the verge of orgasm already, needing only a tiny bit of stimulation to reach it.

“S – Son of a bitch, Cas,” Dean groaned, tilting his head back to look up at the angel as he moved, “Ahh! Baby! _Yeah_!”

Without warning, Castiel suddenly felt Dean's erection spurting inside him. The angel gasped and clutched at his own glowing stomach, able to feel Dean's hot semen being released inside his body. Dean's face was tight with pleasure as he thrust erratically, lingering in his own euphoria. The sight – and _sensation_ – of Dean's climax was just enough to throw Castiel into his own.

“ _Dean_ ,” the angel moaned, his voice cracking loudly.

A colossal storm of pleasure rushed through the angel's entire being, making his wings shudder and his erection pulse. His erupting member painted Dean's bare abdomen with white fluid as he lost himself inside orgasm. For a moment, Castiel feared that he might have accidentally exited his vessel completely; that he had harmed Dean without meaning to. But thankfully, after his overwhelming pleasure subsided, Castiel found Dean in perfect condition. The man was pecking the angel's glowing neck and shoulders with kisses, allowing Castiel to feel each and every tiny crack in Dean's dry lips. Wanting Dean to remain unharmed, Castiel quickly withdrew his grace back into his vessel, closing his wings and letting his shine fade out.

Once the angel was safe in the confines of his vessel, he found that he was extremely weak. He let himself go limp in Dean's arms, to which Dean quickly tightened his grasp and laid back down on the quilt, pulling Castiel down to lay beside him. The two of them were speechless for a moment as they panted and declined from orgasm. Sweet scented rose petals were fluttering between their faces as they stared at each other in the dwindling light.

“Wow,” Dean breathed, hugging Castiel close in their horizontal position, “Best. Valentine's day gift. Ever.”

Castiel smiled brightly at Dean's gratefulness, feeling proud. He was glad that he could give Dean just as much happiness as Dean always gave him. While they caught their breath, Castiel suddenly realized that the sun had finished setting. The moon and stars were gradually emerging over head, casting a soft glow on the forest around them. Dean's beautiful face was glistening as he stroked Castiel's bare back.

“So, what do we do now, Dean?” the angel asked, figuring that the man had more things planned for this date.

The man eased into a comfortable position with Castiel, laying on his back and snaking an arm around the angel next to him, before turning his sight toward the sky above.

“I say we just lay here and watch the stars,” Dean almost whispered, wearing a small smile.

Castiel sank into Dean's loving embrace and joined him in looking up into the heavens. Fireflies were beginning to spring from the trees as well, peppering the atmosphere with a yellowish glow. The sight was so beautiful – but even with all of nature's astounding beauty before him, Castiel's favorite view was Dean's bare body breathing in and out beside him.

“I love you, Cas.”

Castiel momentarily raised his head at the sound of Dean's whisper. There was nothing but pure honesty on the man's peaceful expression as he stared back at Castiel from the pillow.

“I love you too, Dean,” the angel replied, quietly.

After witnessing Dean's smile return, Castiel nested back into the crook of his arm. Many thoughts were passing through the angel's mind while he lay naked on the blanket with his favorite human. He briefly pondered on the splendor of his father's creation, and recalled the jar of raw honey that Dean had purchased for him, and acknowledged how perfect his first date with Dean had been.

But in the midst of his wandering thoughts, Castiel was distracted by a sensation. It was so faint that he almost didn't feel it, but he couldn't deny that it was there; a tiny tingle, echoing from the depths of his stomach. The angel shifted on the blanket to rest his hand against his lower abdomen as he blinked up at the stars in wonder.

What was causing that strange sensation?


	2. Chapter 2

Dean gave the Impala's horn a few stiff beeps when the car rolled to a stop in front of Sam's motel room. It was ten in the morning, now. Bright, sunny, and just the right time to get back on the road. Dean really hoped that Sam and Gabriel were finished doing whatever-the-hell they did for Valentine's day, because he sure as hell didn't want to go up to the door and knock.

“You think they're up?” Dean asked as he gave his blue-eyed angel a sideways glance.

Cas was sitting next to Dean and the front seat with his head tilted down. He was holding the jar of honey in his lap and staring at it, but his eyes were completely vacant. It was like he was looking through the amber goo, thinking hard about something while he cradled the glistening jar softly in his hands.

Dean was kind of used to Cas's weird behavior. The man knew that his angel liked to get lost in thought sometimes and ponder the meaning of life or whatever. But today, Cas's silence seemed weirder than usual. Ever since they woke up in the woods – and quickly got dressed to avoid being seen by morning joggers – Cas never said a word. He had been quiet all morning, like a kid who had been yelled at by his parents. And it was starting to freak Dean out.

“Hey,” Dean whispered, reaching over to put his hand on Cas's warm thigh, “You okay?”

Cas raised his head at Dean's touch, but his focus was shifted from the jar in his hands to the motel door in front of them. Dean followed his angel's line of sight – to watch Sam and Gabriel stumble out of the room. They were both carrying their luggage and giggling like a couple of teenage girls, wearing disheveled clothes and sex-hair while they clung playfully onto each other. Ugh. The sight made Dean want to gag. Why did they have to make it so glaringly obvious that they had sex? Why couldn't they be more discrete, like Dean and Cas?

Gabriel's dog – a little Jack Russell Terrier, that they always called 'Dickie' for some reason – sprinted out of the room behind them, carrying that ugly stuffed moose in its mouth. Man, that plush toy had seen better days. It was all warped and worn, barely kept together by the fraying threads. But Dickie carried it around anyway, as if it was the love of his doggy life. Sam and Gabriel tossed their stuff in the trunk before climbing into the backseat and the dog followed them, hopping in to sit on Gabriel's lap.

“Good morning, lovebirds,” the archangel sang to Cas and Dean in an annoyingly high voice, “Did you guys get some Valentine's dick last night? Because I sure did.”

“ _Gabe_!” Sam barked, his face flushing in embarrassment.

“What? It's not like it's a big secret, Sammy-boy,” Gabriel defended, “It was Valentine's day! I'm sure these two had just as much hot sex as we did, right fellas?”

“Ugh, would you just shut the hell up,” Dean grumbled, backing out of the parking lot.

“See?” Gabriel grinned, gesturing to the front seat, “All of the sex.”

Dean tried his absolute best to ignore Gabriel's yammering mouth as he stared off down the highway. He even reached over and turned the radio on, hoping to muffle the archangel's voice. The Impala was filled with the sound of classic rock when Dean stole another glance at Cas. The blue-eyed angel had gone back to staring through his jar of honey, eyes empty and lips curled in a hard line. Dean reached over to gently clutch Cas's knee as he drove, offering some kind of affectionate touch to show that he was still there. And luckily, Cas shifted in the seat to rest his own hand on top of Dean's, acknowledging the contact.

Though he was kind of worried about Cas, Dean turned his attention back to the road, knowing that they had a long day of driving ahead of them. Bobby wanted some help with another case up in South Dakota, so Dean figured that they might as well head North. And for several hours, everything was fine. Dean drove, Cas stayed quiet, Sam and Gabriel played various road trip games, Dickie napped...

It wasn't until they hit the boarder to Utah that Dean noticed how pale Cas was.

The angel's face was almost as white as snow, forehead glistening with sweat and cheeks looking sunken-in. Cas was kind of shivering in the seat too, clinging hard to the door with one trembling hand and gripping the seat tight with the other. Dean was barely paying attention to the road anymore because he was too busy stealing worried glances at Cas. It seemed like the angel was on the verge of being sick or something; like he was trying really hard to endure a roller coaster ride without blowing chunks everywhere. Dean instantly reached over and touched Cas's quivering knee again.

“Hey,” he said over the hum of music, “Baby, what's wrong?”

Cas didn't open his mouth to answer. He just shook his head once and closed his eyes as if talking would make him feel even worse. And the fact that Cas didn't want to speak only made Dean's worry spike. Why did Cas look sick? Was it the road? Was it the motion of the car? Maybe the angel needed a break from the constant swerving of the freeway or something.

Wanting to give Cas a chance to stand on solid ground, Dean pulled off on the next exit and stopped at the first restaurant he came to. Sam and Gabe both jumped happily out of the car and stretched, seeming glad to soak up the sun. But Cas barely moved. He only opened his glassy eyes to look around. Dean gave his angel an encouraging nudge as he climbed out of the car.

“Come on, Cas. Let's go get a burger,” the man persuaded.

Though he seemed hesitant, Cas eventually gathered the energy to put his jar of honey back in his pocket and get out of the car to follow everyone else. Dean took Cas by the hand as soon as they were close enough, leading him into the diner with a tight grip. But the very moment they stepped inside – and the savory scent of food hit them like a brick wall – Cas's hand disappeared from Dean's. The man barely saw the flash of the angel's tan coat as it flew passed him, heading toward the left of the restaurant. Dean followed Cas's blurred form instantly, realizing that the angel was running toward the bathroom.

“Cas?” Dean called, jogging into the men's room.

When he entered the tiled room, Dean almost couldn't believe what he was seeing. Cas – the angel; the celestial being who never needed to eat, sleep, or do anything human – was throwing up in the sink. The florescent light over head was buzzing annoyingly as Cas heaved with all his might. His pale hands were clinging weakly to the porcelain sink while he vomited bile down the drain. Dean didn't know what to do. What _could_ he do? He never knew that angels had the capability to be sick like this.

After a particularly violent heave, Cas looked like he was going to collapse. Dean quickly jutted forward to catch the angel, grabbing him by the arms to lower him gently into the floor. The man knelt down next to his angel on the bathroom tile and searched over his pale face, feeling helplessly worried.

“Cas, what the hell,” Dean breathed, wiping the sweat from the angel's clammy forehead, “Talk to me, dammit.”

Dean reached up to grab a paper towel from the dispenser and wipe Cas's mouth clean while he waited for the angel to answer. But Sam and Gabriel burst into the room behind them before Cas could say a word. Sam instantly knelt down next to Dean on the floor while the Gabe peered into the sink nearby.

“What's going on?” Sammy asked, sounding concerned.

“Ew. Somebody must have listened to that new Justin Bieber album, 'cause they blew chunks in the sink,” Gabriel murmured.

“Cas is sick. That's all I know,” Dean answered Sam, ignoring Gabriel's stupid comment as he took Cas's face in both hands, “Look at me, Cas. Tell me what's happening.”

The angel's glossy blue eyes blinked a few times as he raised his weak hands to cling to Dean's arms. God, he looked so sick. Cas swallowed down a hard gulp before finally opening his mouth to speak for the first time all day.

“Something... is wrong,” he admitted in a deep voice.

“No shit, Casafras,” Gabriel interrupted, “You painted the state of Idaho in the sink with your puke. What did you eat, huh? Don't tell me you got hungry for souls and decided to open up purgatory again.”

“No,” Cas breathed, “I... I didn't eat anything.”

“Well, when did you start feeling sick, Cas?” Sam asked.

Cas closed his eyes again, letting his head rest heavily in Dean's hands. Dean watched his angel think, hoping and wishing that he could somehow make Cas feel better.

“It was... last night,” Cas eventually answered, “after...”

The angel's voice trailed off when he opened his eyes to look at Dean again. Dean felt his own cheeks grow warm with heat as silence stretched on. Cas didn't need to finish the sentence. It seemed like everybody knew what he was referring to – but that didn't stop Gabriel from spelling it out.

“After you got some Valentine's dick?” the archangel finished.

The Winchester brothers both shot Gabriel a brief look of annoyance, but Cas nodded in Dean's hands. After getting his angel's answer, Dean felt confused. How could someone – especially an angel – get sick just from having sex? He and Cas didn't eat anything weird last night. And they certainly didn't shove any foreign objects up their asses... So, what was making Cas so sick?

“Maybe you just used a lot of energy last night,” Sam suggested with a red face.

“Or maybe you're pregnant,” Gabriel piped up to add.

Dean rolled his eyes and huffed a breath of aggravation before turning to give Gabriel the boldest glare he could muster. Pregnant? Really? Ugh, that was so stupid! Dean was so sick and tired of hearing that little blonde bastard ramble nonsense in his ear.

“Look, pipsqueak,” Dean barked toward Gabriel, “if you're not gonna be serious about this, then -”

“I _am_ being serious!” Gabriel interrupted, “Dizziness, sensitivity to smells, puking – It's all morning sickness stuff, bub!”

“Gabriel, Cas is a guy. He can't get pregnant,” Sam said, taking the words right out of Dean's mouth.

“Uh, he's also an angel, moose-cakes,” Gabriel replied, dramatically batting his eyelashes, “You know, a celestial being? Powerful? Cosmic? _Genderless_?”

Dean's glare slowly melted into a look of shock and confusion. Genderless? He had forgotten all about the genderless part. But that didn't mean anything, right? So what, if Cas didn't really have a specific gender? That didn't mean he could get _pregnant_! That was just stupid!

“Wait a second,” Sam mumbled, sounding curious, “Are... are you saying that Cas has the potential to get pregnant because he's an angel?”

“No. I'm saying that he probably _is_ pregnant because he and Deanie-weenie did the naughty dance without a condom. Say, did you two do anything different last night? Like, I don't know, fool around with grace or something?” Gabriel prompted.

Dean's jaw nearly hit the floor. Oh, God! The wings! The glowing! They had sex while Cas was all angelic and stuff! Even though Gabriel's accusations were well-founded, Dean refuse to believe a word he was hearing. Cas was _not_ pregnant! This was _not_ morning sickness! Gabriel was just trying to stir shit up, like always! The trickster was just being a dick!

“ _He's not pregnant_ ,” Dean barked, his voice echoing through the bathroom.

“Whoa, easy there, tiger,” Gabe said, holding both hands up, “It's not _my_ fault that your pull-out game is weak! Hmm. I wonder if old man Singer has an ultrasound machine lyin' around in that junkyard of his. We might be able to use it and see -”

“I'm gonna bitch-slap the piss out of you if you don't shut the hell up!” Dean threatened, sick of hearing Gabriel's bullshit.

“Dean.”

Dean spun around at the sound of Cas's frail voice. The blue-eyed angel was paler than before, skin barely housing enough color to make him look human. But his eyes were wide open and full of life. It was clear that Cas had been listening to Gabriel's stupid ramblings because his expression was full of fear and worry. Dean gently rubbed the angel's cheeks with his thumbs, hoping to calm him down a little bit.

“It's alright, Cas,” he soothed, “Don't listen to Gabriel. He's just being -”

“Dean,” Cas interrupted, eying him with seriousness, “... I think we should go to Bobby's.”

Dean blinked strangely toward his angel, feeling lost. Go to Bobby's? Wait... Was Cas actually agreeing with Gabriel's bat-shit-crazy words? Did he really want to go to Bobby's just to see if the guy had a freaking ultrasound machine? _Did Cas really believe that he might be pregnant_?! The angel only stared back at the man with unyielding boldness, refusing to back down from his decision.

“Fine. Let's go,” Dean spat, raising up to help Cas get to his feet, “Maybe Bobby can talk some sense into you guys.”

* * *

Castiel was aware that he may have conceived a fetus long before Gabriel ever mentioned pregnancy.

Ever since Dean ejaculated inside Castiel's vessel the night before, that tingling sensation in the pit of his stomach had grown more potent with each passing hour. At first, the angel assumed that it was the remnants of Dean's semen dissolving inside him; that both his grace and his vessel were cleansing themselves of the man's seed, thus creating the strange sensation in his stomach.

But then, Castiel began to experience a flu-like reaction to the feeling. All morning, he had the urge to vomit; a nauseating side-effect that the angel had never felt before. The road trip was nearly unbearable for Castiel. Every tiny turn and bump of the Impala made him feel like regurgitating. That was when he first suspected that something much more drastic was taking place. And once he breathed in the smell of food in the diner and had to run to the restroom to vomit... Castiel knew the reason why. The only explanation for all of his humanistic reactions was that Dean's seed had taken root within his grace.

Hearing Gabriel explain the phenomenon in the bathroom was actually quite comforting to Castiel. Of course, the realization that he was carrying a human fetus was startling and frightening. But at the very least, the angel now had a confirmed diagnosis for his symptoms. And he felt a bit more at ease for knowing the cause of his distress.

Now, Castiel's main concern was Dean.

The man was in total and complete denial of the situation and it surprised Castiel to see Dean so angrily defensive. Not only was Dean refusing to even consider the possibility of Castiel being pregnant, but he was also in denial of irrefutable facts. Yes, angels were genderless. Yes, angels had the power to reproduce with humans. But Dean did not want to hear such statements, and his cold reception of those comments worried Castiel greatly.

Instead of driving the rest of the way to Bobby's residence, Gabriel simply flew the entire Impala to the man's driveway. They arrived on Bobby's doorstep within minutes. And even though Dean was clearly distraught over the current situation, the man still rounded the car to assist Castiel, helping the angel to his feet and offering an arm to walk him toward the house with a gentle grip.

“When we get in here and Bobby proves that Cas is fine, you guys are gonna owe me fifty bucks,” Dean said, talking over his shoulder to Gabriel and Sam.

“Oooh, are we placing bets on this?” Gabriel sang as he skipped up to Dean's side, “Because, in that case, I want to double it to a hundred. No, wait, triple! And I want the Impala, too!”

“Gabe, stop it. This is serious,” Sam grumbled.

Sam and Gabriel continued to bicker behind Dean and Castiel as they all reached the back entrance of the house. Dean only gave Bobby's back door a single knock before proceeding to barge in. The kitchen was clean and silent when the men and angels moved inside.

“Bobby,” Dean called, ushering Castiel to the table, “Are you here?”

Castiel gently fell into a vacant chair and gripped the table at his side, feeling nauseous. The physical changes taking place inside his vessel were sickening, but they weren't the only thing that made him feel like vomiting. It was also the look of anger painted across Dean's face. The man was clearly disturbed by this situation and it pained Castiel to no end. What could he possibly do to help Dean come to terms with this event?

Bobby eventually wandered into the kitchen from his study, holding a book in his hand. He glanced around at all the faces in his house, appearing bewildered by their unannounced presence.

“Uh... Aren't you guys a little early?” he mumbled, peering out from under the bill of his worn hat.

“There's no time for chit-chat, old man,” Gabriel said, “I have a bet to win and I need an ultrasound machine to do it. Stat.”

Bobby only narrowed his eyes at Gabriel before shifting his gaze to the Winchester brothers.

“Somebody wanna translate?” he asked.

“These idiots are trying to convince me that Cas is pregnant,” Dean spat, nodding toward Sam and Gabriel behind him, “and they want to use an ultrasound machine to 'prove' it because they've lost their freakin' minds.”

In the doorway of the study, Bobby simply froze and blinked several times. It was as if he was trying to process what he just heard, like his brain was attempting to compute the information but failing. After several moments of blank staring, the old man eventually huffed a breath and turned around.

“I'm gettin' too old for this shit,” he mumbled under his breath as he waddled away.

“So are you gonna that machine or what, Singer?” Gabriel called in annoyance.

“Don't get yer britches in a knot, shorty,” Bobby replied, his voice fading as he ventured further into the house.

The kitchen settled into an uncomfortable silence after Bobby's absence. Sam and Gabriel were fidgeting by the doorway. And Dean was pacing angrily back and forth in front of the refrigerator like a caged lion waiting for its next meal. Castiel desperately wished that he could end Dean's discomfort. But how?

“This is stupid,” Dean growled, shaking his head in disgust, “Cas and I just had sex _last night_. Even if he is pregnant – which he _isn't_ – he wouldn't have morning sickness this fast. You guys know that, right?”

“Actually, yes he would,” Gabriel challenged as he opened up various cabinets and perused Bobby's canned goods, “He's an angel. Not a human. Everything happens faster for us. Hell, I could flash to the other side of the world and back faster than you could say 'I wear pink panties.' What makes you think our pregnancies would be any slower?”

Everyone in the kitchen paused to look toward Gabriel with stunned faces and Castiel thought that he might be sick again. Cas had never indulged in the study of his own species' mating practices. Because, frankly, he never intended to take part in it. But now that he had accidentally stumbled into the process, Castiel realized that he didn't know a single thing about angelic pregnancies. How long did they last? Were angels created instantaneously? What about the cases in which the fetus was half human? How long would it take to develop inside the womb – or, in this case, inside angelic grace? Castiel casually placed a hand over his lower stomach and could practically feel the cells multiplying inside him. How much time did Castiel and Dean have to prepare for the arrival of their offspring?

Would it only take weeks? Days? _Hours_?

Before Castiel could find his voice to ask Gabriel these pressing questions, Bobby walked back into the room. The older man was carrying a small box in his hand; clearly not the machine Gabriel had requested. He opened up the box and retrieved a plastic-wrapped item before tossing it into Castiel's lap.

“I ain't got no ultrasound machine,” Bobby admitted, “but if you've got a pregnancy scare, this oughta do the trick.”

Castiel picked up the item with trembling fingers and looked it over. It was a small, stick-like object with a screen in the center and a cloth-like tip at the end.

“A pregnancy test?”

Castiel looked up at the sound of Sam's flat voice. He and Gabriel were looking at Bobby with raised eyebrows as if they didn't approve of his method. Bobby only shrugged his shoulders in return, appearing indifferent to their opinion. But Dean, on the other hand, actually looked a little relieved.

“You know what? Fine. We'll take your damn pregnancy test. And when it comes out negative, I want all of you to line up so that I can rub it in your faces,” Dean said, walking over to grab Castiel by the arm, “Come on, Cas. Let's go.”

Although he felt like he could vomit again at the drop of a hat, Castiel carefully rose at Dean's demanding grip and followed him closely. The angel had no idea how to take a pregnancy test, nor why Dean was leading him quickly through the house. The only thing Castiel knew for sure was that he needed to somehow convince Dean that he was pregnant.

Because – test or no test – Castiel already knew that they had conceived.

Dean eventually made it to the bathroom, where he pulled Castiel in and walked over to lift the toilet seat. There was an extremely uncomfortable amount of tension coming from Dean. His body language alone was hostile. He angrily ripped open the package to retrieve the stick before pointing toward Castiel's lower half.

“Piss on this,” the man instructed, holding the stick over the toilet, “Now.”

Castiel gulped, taking the time to glance over Dean's expression. Piss? Was Dean referring to urination? Why did Castiel have to urinate on the stick? What was it for?

“D – Dean, I -”

“Just do it, Cas,” Dean snapped.

Not wanting to fuel Dean's rage, Castiel simply did what he was told to do. He unzipped his pants and withdrew his member to urinate on the stick, all while stealing glances at the man beside him. Part of Castiel felt ridiculous for doing such an embarrassing human activity. But if urinating on a stick would help convince Dean that Castiel was truly pregnant, then the angel wanted to oblige.

Once Dean seemed content with the amount of fluid, he reached over to flush the toilet, signaling that the angel was finished. Castiel made himself decent before the two of them journeyed out of the bathroom and down the hall to the kitchen. Gabriel had perched himself on the counter and was eating handfuls of cereal out of a box while Sam and Bobby stood by patiently. Dean was waving the wet stick around in the air when he walked in, as if he was trying to get the fluid to dry.

“I can't believe we're doing this right now,” Dean growled lowly as he lowly began to pace in front of the refrigerator again, “This is completely insane.”

Castiel gulped and shrank back against the wall near the doorway. He already knew what the test was going to say – and he was fearful of Dean's reaction. If the man was this upset at the _mere thought_ of Castiel being pregnant, what would he do when he found out that it was _real_? Would he be happy? Would he be scared? Concerned? _Angry_? Castiel's heart beat faster and harder, the longer everyone waited for the results.

Gabriel eventually hopped off the counter and wandered closer to Dean, still chomping on handfuls of cereal. Sam and Bobby were also edging closer to the pacing man, giving him less and less room to walk in. After what seemed like hours, Dean's feet carefully drew to a stop and he looked down at the stick in his hand, as did everyone else around him. Castiel stayed on the other side of the room with his head down, waiting patiently for the reactions to begin.

“... It's positive,” Sam said first.

“No, it's not,” Dean denied instantly, shaking his head.

“Yeah, it is. Look the at double lines. It means -”

“ _I don't care what it says_!” Dean practically yelled, throwing the stick across the room, “This is bullshit, okay?! It didn't work because Cas is a guy! _And it doesn't work for guys_!”

“Dean,” Castiel called loudly.

Everyone paused to look across the room at Castiel; especially Dean, who shoved Gabriel out of the way to see him properly. The look of fear and horror on Dean's face was so painful to behold, and Castiel wanted to give Dean the answer he wanted to hear... but he couldn't. Dean needed to know the truth, no matter how much he disliked it. The angel carefully placed his hand against his stomach and met Dean's large eyes.

“I... I can feel it,” Castiel admitted.

Dean blinked several times and even flashed a single glance toward Castiel's abdomen, but the look of fearful terror on his precious face only worsened. He cleared his throat once before narrowing his eyes.

“Are you telling me that you're pregnant, Cas?” he asked breathlessly, as if the wind had been knocked out of him.

After bracing himself internally, the angel forced a nod, ready accept any emotion that Dean was going to feel. Castiel desperately hoped that a smile would rise on his face – but it never came. Only shock and horror remained on Dean's expression. The man swayed around on his feet for a moment as his green eyes fell away from Castiel's stare. It was proceeded by a few long moments of silence... before Dean slowly turned around and headed for the back door, reaching into his pocket to retrieve a set of keys along the way. Castiel blinked in confusion as he watched the man stomp toward the exit. What was he doing? Was he _leaving_?

“Dean,” Castiel called, instantly racing up to grab his hand, “Where are you – ?”

The man yanked his hand free of the angel's grasp and walked faster, acting as though he was trying to get away. Castiel was fully prepared to follow Dean outside to stop him from leaving – but Sam's large hand came down to rest on the angel's shoulder, halting him in the kitchen.

“Let him go, Cas,” the younger Winchester said quietly, sounding wise, “He just needs some time process it. He'll be back. I promise.”

Although it was against every instinct in his being, Castiel did as Sam suggested. The angel stood at the backdoor and watched as Dean climbed into his Impala and slammed the door shut behind him. The car's engine roared to life and began to back swiftly out of Bobby's driveway when Dean flashed a single glance back toward the house.

And even through the windshield of the Impala in the distance, Castiel could see the tears threatening to fall from Dean's emerald eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry about Dean's behavior. :( He's really scared right now and he masks his fear with anger. (Classic Winchester trait.) But don't worry! Something sweet happens in the next chapter that will make him realize how awesome this 'situation' is. Also: why doesn't anyone question the fact that Bobby Singer has a random pregnancy test lying around his house? Lol. Hmm. Perhaps I'll have to ask him. (I have a feeling that Crowley is responsible.) ;)


	3. Chapter 3

Dean Winchester had never been truly afraid of anything. Demons, ghosts, vampires, ghouls, the devil – none of them were really 'scary.' Fear was just another emotion to ignore. At least, that's what his dad always taught him. When the monsters came out, you put your brave face on and dealt with it, just like any other problem. In fact, Dean was pretty sure that there wasn't a single thing in the entire universe that had the power to make him feel actual fear.

Until now.

Trees and houses and wooden fences were blurring passed the Impala as it flew down the highway in the dim light of sunset. And Dean was barely aware that he was sitting in the driver's seat because he was suddenly _drowning in fear_. His heart was pounding so hard that he could barely catch his breath. Hot water was oozing from the corners of his eyes, making his sight blur as he held the gas pedal to the floor with all his strength. His fists were clenched around the steering wheel, barely keeping the swerving car inside the lines on the road. And his mind was an absolute _wreck_.

Oh, God. What had he done?! He got Cas pregnant! _Pregnant_! Everything was screwed up now! Everything was ruined! The family business, the hunting – they couldn't do it anymore! Not with a baby around! Oh, shit. A baby. _A baby_! Dean didn't know a damn thing about babies! He couldn't take care of a baby! He could barely take care of his giant full-grown brother, let alone a freaking _baby_!

And _Cas_! Oh, God. Poor Cas was forced to _carry_ the thing in his _stomach_. And it was all _Dean's fault_! _Because he couldn't keep his damn cock in his pants_!

While Dean drove furiously down the road, he could almost hear his father talking in his head; taunting him mercilessly. ' _See, son? This is what happens when you screw around_ ', John Winchester's voice echoed in Dean's subconscious, ' _I always knew you were going to mess things up good one day. You always were a disappointment_.'

“ _Shut up!_ ” Dean shouted into the silence of the Impala.

The car swerved dangerously close to a semi-truck, forcing the massive vehicle onto the shoulder and causing the driver to honk angrily. Dean was panting – _actually panting_ – as he roped the Impala back onto a steady course. Still, he struggled to pay attention to the road in front of him. His body was basically on autopilot while he tried to deal with this overwhelming fear.

The only thing Dean could think about now was Cas. Poor, harmless, sweet, innocent, Cas, all knocked up and feeling just as scared. Shit, Cas looked so worried standing there at Bobby's backdoor, watching with those giant blue eyes as Dean pulled away. Now, Cas was all alone! Left behind to deal with Dean's mistake all by himself!

' _Coward_ ,' John's voice suddenly accused, ' _You're a coward, Dean. You didn't even have the balls to stay with that poor guy. You're a disgrace to the name Winchester._ '

“ _I said shut up_!” Dean begged in a broken sob.

The white dashes in the middle of the road were blurring together as Dean tried to blink away his rapidly growing tears. He hated hearing that voice in his head. _He hated it_! But everything it was saying was _true_! Brave men didn't run away from their problems. Only cowards did that. And right now, Dean was running as fast as he could, because he was too afraid to face the fact that he had accidentally made another human. Argh! _A kid_! Cas was going to have to bring _Dean's kid_ into this terrible world!

' _And that kid is stuck with you as a father_ ,' John's voice predicted, ' _A pathetic coward, too afraid to even own up to his mistakes. You're nothing but a disappointment, Dean. And now you've cursed the world with another copy of your worthless self_.'

With an inhuman growl, Dean stomped the brake and gave the steering wheel a sharp yank, causing the tires to squeal as the Impala veered off to the side of the freeway. It skidded crookedly into the grass next to the road before wobbling to a complete stop. The headlights were pointed toward the rushing cars, lighting them up as they flew by. Dean violently shoved the driver's side door open and stumbled out of the car, faintly realizing how dark it was outside. The sun had gone down and the moon was hidden behind some clouds, making him strain to see.

Once standing, the man eventually found his way to the back of the Impala where he popped open the trunk and dove his hands inside. He was searching blindly for a bottle of whiskey amongst the numerous guns and ammo. He knew that there was an entire bottle of Jack Daniels tossed back there somewhere and he was bound and determined to drink the whole thing in one go. The only way he could ever find some peace was by drowning his emotions – and his father – in alcohol.

After five solid minutes of angered rummaging, Dean's hand finally found a glass bottle. He couldn't see the label in the dark – for all he knew, it could have been a bottle of cyanide – but he snapped off the cap and took a huge drink anyway. The bitter sting of alcohol burned his tongue and he kept drinking, gulping and gulping until he eventually had to stop for breath.

When he had a tiny drunken buzz going, Dean slammed the trunk shut and walked back around to the driver's seat where he sat down and closed the door beside him. He was boxed in the car with silence again, left alone with his thoughts. In the back of his mind, Dean knew it would only be a matter of time before the tears started flowing. Before he started bawling his eyes out like a little bitch. Because there was nothing else he could do. Cas was stuck carrying around his bastard child and it couldn't be undone.

Dean sniffled a little as he took a few more giant gulps of whiskey. He couldn't hear John's voice anymore. Now, there was just the uncomfortable silence of being alone. Cars were still rushing by on the road near the Impala and Dean was just sitting there... thinking about Cas. God, Dean wanted to talk to Cas so bad in that moment. He wanted to pray to his angel and beg for forgiveness – but he couldn't. He was too ashamed to even speak Cas's name.

Instead, Dean just drank every last drop of whiskey from the bottle and settled into the front seat of his car to rot. Part of him hoped that another semi-truck would come by and plow into the Impala; that it would kill him instantly and rid the world of his worthless ass... But another part of him wished that Cas would just pop into the seat next to him. He wished that his angel would come to give him some love and comfort, just like always. But why would Cas do that? Dean had been nothing but a jerk to him. It was only fair that he left Dean alone to wallow in his well-earned guilt...

As the mellow stir of alcohol dulled his senses, Dean closed his eyes and leaned back against the seat. Terrible thoughts of failure kept torturing his mind, even as sleep started creeping up on him. He was a coward. He was a bad example. He couldn't have a kid. He couldn't be a dad. He couldn't do this. He wasn't strong enough. He wasn't good enough. He wasn't ready...

_Before Dean knew it, he was staring at the Impala._

_The man was vaguely aware that he was stuck between being asleep and being awake, so he assumed that he was thinking of a memory. The scene appeared to be something Dean that had witnessed before. The Impala was shining like a new penny in the warm sun while she sat motionless in a parking lot near a picnic area. Dean glanced around at the scenery, trying to remember where he had seen this sight before. Where was he? Colorado? Virginia? It had to be someplace like that. He and Sam were always stopping in random states to eat lunch and catch up on leads._

_But while Dean tried to figure out the place he was currently thinking of, a little kid raced out in front of him._

_Now, Dean was definitely sure that this was a memory. Because that little kid looked just like him from the back; spiked brown hair, freckled skin, tiny arms and legs sprouting out from a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Yeah, this was probably one of those dreams that you could see yourself in, like watching a memory from someone else's point of view. The kid ran right over to the Impala and climbed up onto the trunk, using the back tire as a ladder._

_Dean watched his younger self crawl up to sit on the back end of the Impala, feeling a little confused. He was never allowed climbed on the Impala like that. No, John would have tore Dean a new one if he ever caught him using the car as a jungle gym. Though he was kind of lost, Dean kept his sight on the little kid, watching him take a match box car out of his pocket and roll it across the trunk. His hands were so tiny, just big enough to keep hold of the small car in his fingers as he made 'vroom vroom' sounds to match his motions. Dean was kind of amused, watching himself play on the back of his Impala. Geez, he was so small. How old was he? Three? Maybe four? If that was the case, then where was Sammy? Sam would have been just a baby if Dean was this young..._

_While the kid played with his matchbox car on the trunk, Dean noticed that a figure was moving closer. The man looked up to see a familiar trench coat swaying around in the warm breeze next to him. It was Cas, all dressed up in his normal attire and wearing a soft smile on his pretty face. The angel was watching the kid on the Impala too, grinning pridefully like he thought it was the cutest thing ever. Dean glanced between the angel next to him and the kid in front of them, feeling so lost. Why was Cas here? How did he end up in one of Dean's memories? Dean was happy to see Cas of course, but his presence wasn't making any sense._

_Cas turned his head to stare directly at Dean and gave him a look of understanding before stepping forward to walk toward the Impala. Dean watched him go, realizing that the angel was making his way closer to the kid on the trunk. And once Cas was close enough, the kid turned his head to look at him –_

_With a pair of giant blue eyes._

_Dean blinked hard at the kid's face, searching over every detail with acute attention. His tiny nose and cheeks were dotted with freckles and his hair was the same shade of oak that Dean had. But his eyes were blue. Not just any blue, but the perfect shade of blue. Deep like the ocean and as vibrant as sapphire. Those weren't Dean's eyes. They were Cas's eyes..._

_The little kid hopped up on the trunk of the Impala and leaned over to wrap his tiny arms around Cas's neck, hugging him and resting his tiny head on Cas's shoulder. Cas picked up the small child from the car and held him in his arms, swaying around a little in the sun and cradling him close. And all Dean could do was stare at the astoundingly beautiful sight in front of him and feel utterly amazed. Holy shit. That kid belonged to Dean and Cas. It was_ their kid _. It was_ their son _._

_And he was the most precious thing that Dean had ever laid eyes on..._

A few hard taps startled Dean awake.

The man blinked his eyes open and looked around, seeing that the inside of the Impala was lit up with morning sunlight. An empty bottle of whiskey was laying beside him in the seat and his neck was stiff from sleeping in a weird position. What time was it? Where was he? What happened to that amazing dream?

Another stern tap came from the window and Dean looked over to see an older man standing near the car. He was staring at Dean with a worried expression and gesturing for him to open the door. After regaining his motor function, Dean reached over and rolled the window down, wondering what the guy wanted.

“You alright there, fella?” the gentleman asked, “I saw your car on the side of the road and I thought you might need some help. You okay in there?”

Dean gulped hard before glancing out of the windshield. The sun was on a steady rise in the east and cars were still passing by without a care... and Dean felt like he could break out into song and dance. After seeing that little kid in his dream, an overwhelming sense of joy had taken root in Dean's heart and he suddenly felt like the happiest man on the entire planet.

“Yeah,” Dean breathed, feeling a smile twitch to life on his face, “... I'm gonna be a dad.”

* * *

After Dean left in the Impala, Gabriel and Sam tried their best to comfort Castiel. Sam suggested that the angel sit down and relax, to give his vessel a chance to rest now that it was accommodating a second party. Gabriel offered to get Castiel any food that he desired in an effort to appease the oncoming cravings that usually surfaced during human pregnancy. But Castiel denied his family's help. He didn't want to cater to his own needs. Right now, the only thing Castiel wanted was to have Dean safely back at his side.

At some point during the constant attention, Castiel wandered out into Bobby's salvage yard to be alone. He perched himself on top of a stack of cars to sit on the dented hood of the highest vehicle, nearly thirty feet from the ground. It was tall enough for Castiel to peer out and see the road in the distance. The same road that he wished would carry the Impala back to him. Sam predicted that Dean would return when he had time to process everything that was happening and Castiel hoped that he was right.

Because, whether Dean was present or not, their offspring was growing rapidly inside Cas's grace.

Many times throughout the night, Castiel simply placed his hand against his stomach just to feel the growth and creation taking place inside of him. The cells were splitting at an alarming rate, already beginning to shape the foundations for human life. The fetus had already created a habitat around itself; a protective barrier to keep it safe from the harsh glow of Cas's grace, complete with a placenta and umbilical cord. And by some miracle, Castiel could sense that the fetus was already hungry; craving to be nourished so that it could sustain life. But Castiel was hesitant to cater to its needs... Because, though he knew it was a wrenched and despicable notion to entertain, Castiel was unsure if Dean wanted him to keep it alive at all.

In his heart, Castiel knew that he had the power to end this situation. Oh, it would be so easy for him reach down inside his own grace and snuff out the tiny flame of life. It would be so easy for him to stop the first stages of the fetus's development and quietly end its life before it even began...

But how could he ever do such a horrible thing?

No, Castiel wanted his offspring to _live_. He wanted the fetus to _grow_ , and _prosper_ , and develop into a fully formed _child_. Even now, Castiel could sense a large number of Y chromosomes within his grace. That meant that he and Dean were going to have a _son_. And Castiel felt so honored to be the one responsible for carrying the unborn son of his most beloved human...

But Dean's reaction to the pregnancy had not been pleasant. And Castiel worried that Dean may ask him to do the unthinkable. What if the man returned only to ask Castiel to end their son's life before it had the chance to begin? What would happen if Dean refused to see the miracle behind it? How could Castiel ever convince him of how precious this gift was? How could he make Dean see that having a child was a blessing and not a curse?

When the sun began to rise in the east, Castiel carefully reached into his pocket and retrieved the jar of honey that Dean had given him. Inside the glass, the amber liquid slowly pooled around the waxy honeycomb, refilling the hexagon tubes. Each cell of the honeycomb was perfectly shaped. Even a tiny insect such as the bee was able to create marvelous things. Even this tiny scrap of honey was a blessing; a miracle to be cherished and praised. Did Dean see the miracle hidden inside the jar when he purchased it for Castiel? Did Dean possess the ability to recognize the same miracle in his unborn child? Would he be able to see that there was a purpose to this situation, even though it happened by accident?

While Castiel pondered on the growing existence of his offspring, a familiar rumble echoed up to him from below. It was the sound of an engine. A sound that Cas had come to adore. The angel turned around on the stack of cars just in time to see the Impala roll slowly back into Bobby's salvage yard. Even from the higher elevation, Castiel was able to see Dean sitting in the driver's seat, and the sight of him made a flicker of worry race through the angel's entire being. Dean had returned. And now, it was time to find out exactly how he felt about this situation...

Dean cut off the engine and stepped out of the car to look around but Castiel lingered on the stack of cars for a moment to observe the man, noticing that his eyes were brighter than before. Dean was practically spinning around in circles, searching his surrounds at eye-level with excitement.

“Cas?” he called, sounding chipper, “Are you here?”

Though he was a bit taken back by Dean's enthusiastic behavior, Castiel flew from the stack of cars to the ground, landing on his feet directly in Dean's line of vision. The man's emerald eyes instantly met Castiel's – before falling to the angel's stomach. Cas casually placed his hand over his own abdomen in a protective manner, silently stating his defense of the treasure hidden inside. A subtle smile played on the edge of Dean's lips at Castiel's action and the angel felt confused. Why was Dean behaving so happily this morning? Had something changed his perspective overnight?

A brief moment of awkward silence settled between the two of them as they glanced over one another cautiously. The very sight of Dean was enough to make Castiel's heart flutter with relief. He had waited all night to see the man again, but now he didn't know what to say to him. Dean's eyes widened and he gulped a few times as he studied the angel in front of him with wonder.

“Baby, you're _glowing_ ,” he mumbled in awe.

Castiel glanced down at his own body and could see that his grace was, in fact, shining through his vessel. It was a very faint glow, barley enough to notice in the sunlight. Castiel simply straightened out his coat in an attempt to keep the dim light concealed. He did not want it to distract Dean from their meeting, nor remind him of the pregnancy...

“Cas.”

The angel looked up to see that the man had taken a few steps closer to him in the salvage yard. Now, they were only a single foot apart; just close enough for Castiel to see the honesty in Dean's wide eyes. Several different emotions were shifting across his lovely face as he stared meaningfully down at Castiel.

“I'm sorry,” Dean said first, shaking his head a bit, “Seriously, man. I'm sorry for being a total asshole yesterday. I should have never left you alone to deal with this.”

The man gestured to the angel's stomach and Castiel's hand automatically raised to cover it again.

“It's alright, Dean,” he consoled.

“No, it's not,” Dean denied.

The man inched closer to place his hand on the back of Castiel's. Both of their hands were cradling the angel's flat stomach then, hovering just above the growing fetus inside. A rush of emotion flooded Castiel at the affectionate touch as he looked back up into Dean's loving stare.

“Cas, listen. There... there isn't a single thing about this that doesn't scare me,” Dean admitted in a soulful whisper, “I'm scared for you. I'm scared to have a kid. I'm scared to be a dad. Hell, I'm even scared to make Sam an uncle, because God knows that guy has enough shit on his plate. Everything about this situation scares me to death, Cas,” the man paused to take a few breaths, “But... you know what?”

“What?” the angel uttered, blinking once.

A genuine smile finally grew across Dean's lips.

“Every time I think about you holding our kid, I get this stupid smile on my face,” he answered, grinning with the same smile he spoke of, “All I have to do is remember that you're gonna be there with me and I know that everything is gonna be alright. Because all my courage comes from _you_ , Cas. And as long as you're with me, I can do anything. Including _this_ ,” he said, caressing Castiel's stomach with his fingertips.

Castiel was at a loss for words. He was rendered utterly speechless by Dean's beautiful words and overwhelmingly touched by his actions. For a solid moment, all the angel could do was look up at the man with glistening eyes and feel the gentle sensation of Dean's hand on his stomach. Dean eventually looked down at Cas's abdomen behind his hand and his smile carefully slipped into a look of seriousness.

“H – how is it going, anyway? I mean, is everything okay? It's still in there, right?” he asked, his voice full of concern.

Castiel cleared his throat and pressed his own hand a little harder against the skin. The cells had already begun to group into organs by now, sprouting out from the fetus's fragile spinal structure.

“Yes,” Castiel answered, “He's fine, Dean.”

Color seemed to drain from the man's face in an instant. He was suddenly pale and staring at Castiel with giant eyes as if he had just heard life-altering news.

“H – he?” Dean repeated breathlessly, “It's... it's a boy? You already know? For sure?”

Castiel nodded slowly, feeling a smile spread to life on his own face. Yes. Their child was most definitely going to be a boy. Once Dean received his answer, his eyes began to fill with moisture. The emerald orbs were suddenly swimming in tears while his lips formed another smile. A joyful chuckle fell out of his mouth as he and Castiel smiled at each other.

After reaching up to give Cas's face a quick caress, Dean pulled the angel into a warm embrace, wrapping both arms around him and holding him close. Castiel clung right back to Dean, letting both eyes flutter shut as he nestled his face into the man's sweet-scented neck. In that moment, every terrible emotion that Castiel had felt throughout the night disappeared in a flash. There was no need to fret or worry anymore. Dean had managed to see the good in their circumstance without Castiel ever having to say a word, and the angel was overwhelmingly grateful.

“I love you, Cas,” Dean sighed, giving another small chuckle into the angel's ear, “Baby, I love you so much.”

Instead of voicing his affections, Castiel simply raised his head to plant his lips against Dean's. Their tongues soon met in a tender dance, circling slowly while their lips caressed. But in the midst of his passionate kiss with Dean, Castiel suddenly felt a new sensation. It was a subtle tingle, almost like a vibration, and it was reoccurring in a steady rhythm. It echoed through his grace like a tiny melody; a whispering _thump-thump_ , _thump-thump_... Castiel carefully parted his mouth from Dean's in order look down at his stomach in surprise. Dean followed the angel's sight instantly, glancing up and down with worry.

“What? What is it?” the man asked urgently.

The angel raised his head again to meet Dean's eyes as he placed both of their hands back against his stomach. The rhythmic melody continued to echo quietly though his grace while moisture swelled in his eyes.

“His heart just started beating,” Castiel replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a boy! Yay! :D Yes, I know that this pregnancy is moving extremely fast but I promise that many of your questions will be answered (or at least talked about) in the next chapter. :) I'm very sorry for those 'John Winchester' feels at the beginning. I always assumed that if Dean's inner demon had a voice, it would sound like John. Also, I like to think that Cas's dad gave Dean that dream. In fact, that scene was inspired by two things: Lord of the Rings, in which Arwen has a vision of Aragorn with their son. And of course, the actual bible, in which an angel visits Joseph and explains that Mary is pregnant with the son of God. ;) I hope you're enjoying the story so far! :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pssst! Hey, guys! You know how Bobby Singer had to kill his wife because she was possessed by a demon? Okay, well, let's all pretend that she was pregnant when that happened and that Bobby knew about it beforehand. Okay? Sound good? Thank you so much! :) Please enjoy!

Dean held Bobby's backdoor open for Cas, letting the angel walk into the kitchen first as the two of them made their way back into the house. The moment their shoes hit the tiled floor, Cas made a b-line for the fridge, stepping over to it quickly to open the door and glance over the contents. For the first time since 'Famine' was on earth, Cas was acting like he was starving. The angel dove into the fridge and started eating olives straight from the jar, chomping on hotdogs straight from the package, and gulping down Gatorade straight from the jug...

Dean, on the other hand, was frozen by the counter. His eyes were on the angel in front of him – watching Cas eat his way through an entire box of leftover pizza – but his mind was elsewhere. Dean just learned that he was going to have _a son_. And that his son's heart was already _beating_. The kid was already _alive_. Somewhere, beyond all those layers of clothes and skin on Cas's stomach, there was a brand new teeny-tiny heart beating and growing in microscopic form. Of course, Dean was happy that all of these wonderful things were happening... But it also terrified him, because these wonderful things were happening _so damn fast._

To be fair, Dean didn't know jack-shit about pregnancies. He never cared enough about the process of human production to learn about it because he never thought he would have to deal with it. But even though he didn't know much, Dean was still pretty sure that this pregnancy was moving way too fast. The baby was only conceived less than forty-eight hours ago – _less than two days! –_ so how the hell could he already have a beating heart? How did Cas know for sure? And why was the angel physically  _glowing_ ? Dean always thought that 'glowing' was a figure of speech when it came to pregnancy. Did all women actually glow during pregnancy? Was that a real thing? What the hell?

While Dean stood by the counter and worried – and Cas stood at the open fridge and ate everything inside – a couple of figures moved into the kitchen from the study. Dean tore his eyes away from the back of Cas's coat to look over and see Sam and Gabriel shuffle their way inside. Sam was yawning and scratching his head – obviously just waking up – and they were both glancing between Dean and Cas, seeming a little surprised. Dean was fully aware that most of Gabriel's attention was on him, though. The archangel was giving the man a serious glare and raising both arms to cross them over his small chest.

“Well, well. Look what the stork flew in,” Gabriel spat, giving Dean the stink eye, “Are you here to apologize to Castiel and beg for everyone's forgiveness? Or are you here to drop off your first child support check? Because, either way, you've got a pretty big set of balls to show your face after abandoning my pregnant little brother like that.”

Dean's jaw nearly hit the floor. Whoa, that was  _harsh_ . For a split second, Dean was ready to defend himself by saying something like ' _Screw you, asshole! I was scared out of my mind!_ ' But Cas beat him to the punch. The blue-eyed angel raised his head out of the refrigerator long enough to give Gabriel a warning glance.

“Do not speak to Dean in that snide manner, Gabriel,” Cas hissed with a mouth full of food, “He has already come to terms with the situation and given me a sincere apology. Leave him alone.”

Both of Gabriel's eyebrows raised in surprise before he turned to look back at Dean. He must have realized that Cas really meant business because he was quiet for a few seconds as if he was trying to decide what to say next. Eventually, Gabriel huffed a breath of defeat.

“Well... In that case, welcome back,” the archangel mumbled sarcastically, “I hope you brought your big girl panties with you this time.”

“Give it a rest, Gabe,” Sam breathed, inching around the archangel to give his older brother a simple smile, “Mornin', Dean. How are you doing?”

Dean gulped down the bitter comeback that he wanted to give Gabriel and turned to watch his little brother sit at the table. How was he doing? It was pretty clear that Sam was genuinely concerned about how Dean was coping with this situation, but Dean didn't know how to answer Sammy's question. After a second of mindless scrambling, Dean forced himself to shrug and gesture toward Cas.

“... There's a heartbeat,” he finally mumbled.

Sam's sleepy eyes blew wide and his head swiveled back and forth between Dean and Cas. Dean was glad to see that Sam was just as shocked by the news. See? Dean _knew_ that he was right. He _knew_ that this pregnancy was moving too fast.

“A heartbeat?” Sam repeated, briefly eying Cas's stomach, “But, that's impossible. Heartbeats aren't even detectable until the middle of the first trimester.”

Dean completely turned toward the kitchen table to give his little brother a full look of total bewilderment. Middle of the first trimester? What the hell? Since when did Sam know so much about pregnancy? Under Dean's look of confusion, Sam shrugged his shoulders and reached for his laptop on the table.

“I did some research last night,” he explained, opening up the computer, “You know, just in case we needed some information. It even says right here that the baby's heart usually starts beating between weeks six and eight.”

Cas raised up out of the refrigerator again – this time with an arm full of food – and closed the door with his foot before walking over to sit down at the table. He pulled the chair out and angled it toward the open room first, as if he wanted to keep an eye on Dean and Gabriel while he ate. Once Cas sat down, Dean's eyes instantly traveled back to the angel's stomach again, where his white shirt and tie were ever so slightly raised. Shit, was he _showing_ already?

Dean shuffled his way closer to Cas, where he knelt down on the kitchen floor in front of him. The man was pretty sure that everybody's eyes were on him but he didn't care. He needed to see if Cas already had a baby bump. He needed to see if his kid really was growing as fast as everybody said he was. While Cas chewed on some beef jerky above him, Dean reached out to unbutton the lower part of the angel's white shirt. He tugged the fabric out of his waistband too, all in an effort to expose Cas's stomach.

Dean had kissed his way around Cas's stomach many times. He had teasingly licked the inside Cas's belly button before and guided his lips along the tiny line of dark hair that trailed all the way to Cas's dick. Needless to say, Dean was very familiar with Cas's body. And now that he was looking at Cas's bare stomach again, Dean could definitely see a difference. There really _was_ a bump. It was very small right now, but it was there. Dean carefully reached up and placed his hand against Cas's glowing skin, hoping to feel something inside. Man, Cas was so _warm_. No wonder their kid was growing so fast. He was in the perfect environment for it.

“Whoa,” Sam said, leaning over the table to look at Cas's stomach, “It looks like you're already two months into your pregnancy and everything! How is that possible?”

“Don't you remember what I told you, moose? Come on. You're gonna have to start paying attention when I say words,” Gabriel huffed, “Angel-human pregnancies don't take very much time because of the grace thing.”

“Grace thing?” Dean repeated, “What are you talking about?”

Gabriel let out a dramatic sigh and rolled his eyes before plopping himself down into the floor beside Dean. They were both kneeling in front of Cas then, hovering between the angel's knees.

“Alright, look,” Gabriel began, “You know how some people like to say that there's a bun the oven? Well, instead of a bun or an oven, this is more like you stuck a chicken egg inside a high-powered, pressure-cooking incubator,” he explained, reaching out to cradle Cas's glowing stomach with both hands, “All that regenerating healing power of angelic grace is surrounding your growing kid in holy soil, like a prize-winning vegetable at a county fair,” the archangel grinned, and paused again to lean close to Cas's stomach and say, “I'm your uncle Gabe, by the way. How's it going in there? Do you have plenty of room? Are you picking up good internet connection?”

Dean quickly reached out to smack Gabriel's hands away and place his own hands over Cas's stomach. A flicker of protectiveness had raced through him and he suddenly didn't want anyone to even touch his angel.

“Hey, stop talking to my kid like that,” Dean grumbled, “He doesn't even have ears yet... I don't think...”

Sam nearly jumped up out of his chair in shock. The giant guy peered over the edge of the table to meet Dean's stare with humorous shock.

“He?” Sam repeated, his eyes lighting up, “Is it really a boy?”

Dean took the time to glance up at Cas – where they both gave each other soft smiles and blushes – before turning back to give his brother a truthful nod. Yep, it was a boy. A tiny little Winchester who was destined to have Cas's gorgeous blue eyes. The minute Sam got his answer, he turned to give Gabriel a huge grin.

“Ha! I _knew_ it! In your face, Gabe! Pay up,” Sammy demanded, holding out his hand.

Gabriel grumbled out loud and sulked before reaching into his pocket. Dean watched the interaction, feeling confused. Wait, did Sam and Gabe seriously bet on the gender of the baby? Geez, was there anything those guys wouldn't bet on?!

“Fine. Here, Tarzan. Go buy me something pretty,” Gabriel sighed, placing a fifty-dollar bill in Sam's hand.

“Did I miss somethin'?”

Everyone in the kitchen turned around to see Bobby standing in the doorway. The old man looked like he had been awake for a while, already dressed with a hat on his head and a mug of coffee in his hand. And for some reason, just looking at Bobby made Dean feel better. If there was anyone in Dean's tiny circle of family that would know exactly what he was going through, it was Bobby. The guy had almost been a dad, once upon a time. He knew what it was like to find out that he was having a baby. Granted, the poor guy had to kill his wife while she was pregnant, but he was still _experienced_. He still went through all the pressure and worry of being a new dad, right?

“Dean and Cas are having a boy,” Sam answered Bobby's question first.

Bobby took a sip from his mug and glanced down at the angel in the chair, seeming confused.

“How do you know?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow under the bill of his hat.

Everybody in the room looked toward Cas to hear the answer. Hell, Dean was pretty curious too. How _did_ Cas know that it was a boy? Could he somehow feel the gender? Or did he have a dream about it like Dean did? The angel took the time to swallow his food before talking.

“Y chromosomes. Definitely male,” he answered simply.

“Yep. And he's gonna grow up to be cutie-pie just like his uncle Sammy,” Gabriel predicted with a prideful smirk before leaning back toward Cas's stomach to say, “You hear that, little man? Your uncle Sam is a stone-cold fox!”

“Hey! I said stop talking to him,” Dean barked again, shoving Gabriel back, “I don't want your annoying voice to be the first thing he hears! I mean, you know, if he can hear anything... Can he hear things, yet?”

“Uh, actually, no. If the pregnancy is two months along, then the baby should look like this,” Sam said, spinning his laptop around to let Dean see the screen.

Everyone in the room looked at the picture of a tiny fetus on the computer. It was kind of weird looking, like a baby doll that had been melted down. There was barely any form to it yet. Just a big head and a tiny body with little sprouting limbs. Dean blinked hard at the screen as his fingers drew tighter around Cas's warm stomach. Wow. That was what his kid looked like right now. Just a tiny little baby-doll-thing that barely had any shape...

“You know, if you squint your eyes and tilt your head, it kinda looks like a giant soy bean,” Gabriel pointed out quietly.

“Whoa, whoa. Wait a second. Two months along? Already?” Bobby said from the doorway, his eyes growing wide, “I thought Cas got knocked up a few days ago.”

“He did,” Dean replied, feeling his face flare up with heat, “But apparently, angel pregnancies are really freakin' fast.”

Bobby glanced down into his mug of coffee for a second – and shook his head, as if he was thinking about how weird this whole thing was – before looking back up to search all the faces in his kitchen.

“So, judgin' by how fast it's goin' now... You've only got about a week before the baby's due?” he suggested quietly.

“Yep, that sounds about right,” Gabriel agreed casually.

Dean forced down a gulp and his hands carefully slipped from Cas's stomach. Oh, shit. _Oh, shit!_ A week? Just one week?! Dean only had _one week_ to prepare for a baby?! He only had _one week_ to get all his shit together and get ready to be a father?! _Just one week?!_ _Just seven days?!_

Bobby must have seen the look of unbridled terror that flashed on Dean's face because the old man gave a tiny chuckle and walked over to pat Dean on the shoulder. There was a look of understanding in his misty eyes; the kind of look that only an experienced hunter could pull off.

“Don't freak out, son,” Bobby grinned, “We just need a little trip to the store.”

* * *

Castiel glanced up at all of the lovely wares around him as he and Dean led the way down yet another aisle of infant necessities. Sam, Gabriel, and Bobby were close behind them, along with Gabriel's dog. The men were actually scanning the various items and giving thought to what should be purchased for Dean and Castiel's growing infant. But the tiny dog, however, was simply sniffing around eagerly as if he was attempting to find something for himself instead. Dean paused by a shelf of bulky plastic contraptions to search the items with a look of confusion and worry on his face while Castiel gazed at him longingly.

When it came to the emotional aspect of the pregnancy, Castiel felt very much the same way Dean did. He, too, was feeling just as stressed and unprepared as Dean was. But on top of all his emotions, Castiel was also feeling quite _human_. He was still hungry, even though he had practically cleaned out Bobby's refrigerator. And now, he was even beginning to feel tired and weak. His feet felt sore, his back was starting to ache, and he just wanted to sit down and rest. Castiel knew that he was feeling all of this because a lot of his grace was being used to surround the fetus – and of course, he was more than happy to spare his own grace for the needs of his offspring. But it left him feeling sick, hungry, tired, and emotional all at once. And the large list of ailments only seemed to be growing...

“Cribs, high chairs, car seats, strollers... Geez, how many accessories does one kid need?” Dean grumbled, pulling Castiel out of his thoughts.

“More than you'd think,” Bobby answered from behind them.

“Hey guys, check it out,” Gabriel chuckled.

The archangel held up a tiny infant-sized t-shirt that read, ' _I had boobs for breakfast_.' Castiel tilted his head a bit at the strange message. Boobs? What did 'boobs' mean? Was that slang term used to describe milk or something? Sam rolled his eyes with exhaustion as he ripped the cloth out of Gabriel's hand and put it back on the shelf.

“We're not here to get funny t-shirts, Gabe,” he said.

“Well, then, what _are_ we here to get, huh? Matching tattoos?” Gabriel asked sarcastically, crossing his arms playfully.

“Diapers,” Bobby answered truthfully, picking up a large box from the shelf, “and lots of 'em.”

“We're gonna need bottles, too,” Dean sighed, stepping forward to glance over the numerous bottles in front of him, “and something to put in them, right?”

“Yeah, the formula is over here,” Sam called, gesturing to the large cans.

Everyone migrated toward Sam's end of the aisle, where several different brands of formula were arranged in a neat fashion. Dean slowed to a stop by his brother and the five of them stared blankly at the cans in front of them. Enfamil? Similac? Castiel had never heard of such names before. Why were they all different? Did they each have different ingredients? What made one more expensive than the other? How were they supposed to determine which formula was best for their infant if he wasn't even born yet?

“Milk-based powder? Bleck. That doesn't sound very appetizing,” Gabriel uttered, looking disgusted.

“Hey, look. This one's organic,” Sam pointed out, holding the container toward Dean.

“Ugh, don't even _think_ about shoving that organic crap onto my kid,” Dean defended, pushing the container away, “If he wants to drink the fattening milk, then he'll drink the fattening milk, dammit.”

While everyone else discussed the pros and cons of formula brands, Castiel took a large breath and turned around. He was hoping to find a chair or bench nearby, somewhere he could sit down to relieve the ache growing in his back. But the rest of the aisle was empty – save Gabriel's dog. The little terrier was jumping up and down in front of the crib displays, snapping his jaws as if he was trying to reach something high up.

After stealing a glance toward everyone else to make sure they wouldn't notice his absence, Castiel carefully walked down the aisle to assist the dog. The angel had no idea what Gabriel's canine was after, but he figured that he could at least inspect the situation.

“What are you trying to reach?” Castiel asked quietly, stopping near the dog.

Dickie paused on the floor to give a short small bark and wag his tail as if he was attempting to reply to Castiel's question. But of course, Castiel didn't understand what he was trying to say. Instead of communicating with words, the angel simply used the dog's body language to figure out what he was focused on. Dickie had been jumping up and down in front of a fully constructed crib, where a mobile of fuzzy animals was dangling over the top. Castiel watched the tiny decoration slowly turn – before realizing that one of the fuzzy animals was actually a honey bee.

Feeling a lump begin to form in his throat, Castiel reached out to gingerly touch the tiny stuffed bee. Its details were grossly unrealistic and over exaggerated, but it was undeniably precious. The plush bee was made of fabric that was very soft; soft enough for a newborn baby to safely embrace. And there was a playful smile sewn just underneath the large eyes, making it seem friendly and lovable. A smile spread across Castiel's own lips as he stared wondrously at the fuzzy honey bee. Why was this toy so beautiful? And why was it giving Castiel the urge to cry?

A sudden growl came from Castiel's feet.

The angel tore his attention away from the honey bee to look down at dog next to him. All of the fur on Dickie's back was standing on end and he was positioned in a defensive stance, growling toward the end of the aisle. Castiel followed the dog's line of sight – and found an angel standing there. It was a celestial solider from one of heaven's many orders, inhabiting a human vessel. Castiel faintly recognized the angel from his heavenly aura, but the soldier's presence was alarming. Why was he here on earth? More importantly, why was he glaring so forcefully at Castiel?

Before Castiel could even open his mouth to ask these questions, the angel lunged forward, striking toward Cas with an angel blade. Castiel ducked out of its path and the blade pierced a stack of baby clothing behind him instead. Gabriel's dog nipped at the soldier's heels, giving Castiel time to spun around and look for Dean – but to his great shock, Castiel found Dean already engaged in a battle of his own.

_Another_ celestial soldier had ambushed the Winchesters at the other end of the aisle as well, forcing everyone into combat. Although he didn't want to jostle the fetus inside him, Castiel instantly sprinted toward the Winchesters, cradling his stomach to keep his offspring safe. He wanted to close the distance between himself and the rest of his family – but the celestial soldier cut him off. The angel popped in front of Castiel in the aisle with an angel blade raised high in the air. Castiel gasped and tumbled into the floor, keeping both arms folded over his stomach. He waited for the blade to pierce his body – but it never came.

After hearing the blast of exploding grace, Castiel looked up to watch the soldier fall into the floor. Gabriel had flown over just in time to smite the soldier where he stood, saving Castiel's life in the process. The archangel blinked down at the body on the floor with honest confusion – and pain – in his golden eyes. Being forced to kill his own kin obviously shocked and disturbed Gabriel, even if it was in self defense.

“Cas!”

In a flash of green fabric, Dean suddenly flew by Gabriel and dove into the floor, falling to instantly wrap both arms around Castiel. With a deep breath of relief, Cas hugged Dean's body tight against his own as he trembled with shock. He was overwhelmingly happy to know that Dean – and their unborn child – was still alive and safe.

“Gabe, we need to get out of here before someone sees us,” Sam said urgently.

With the snap of his fingers, Gabriel instantly transported everyone back to Bobby's house. Castiel and Dean were still in the middle of their embrace when they appeared on the kitchen floor. Sam, Gabriel, and Bobby were all still standing near them and Bobby was still clutching a box of diapers. Everyone glanced around at each other in silence for a moment and tried to catch their breath. Dean raised his head to fully inspect Castiel, holding the angel's face with both hands to search over it carefully.

“A – Are you okay? Are you hurt? What about the baby? Is he okay? Did he get hurt?”

“We are fine, Dean,” Castiel assured, pausing the man's frantic questions by placing Dean's hand over his stomach.

Dean carefully exhaled a breath and looked down at the angel's glowing stomach beneath his hand. He seemed to calm down a bit once he was able to feel the warmth of Cas's grace. Their son's heart was still beating strongly inside his stomach, still echoing all the way through Castiel's body.

“Uh... What the hell just happened?” Sam asked, sounding exasperated.

“Those were angelic soldiers, Samsquatch,” Gabriel said quietly, walking over to plop himself into a chair at the table, “Recon division, I think.”

“Recon?” Sam scoffed, “Since when does reconnaissance include assassination? Those guys tried to kill us, Gabe!”

“Maybe we were just in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Bobby suggested, “You Winchesters ain't exactly the poster boys for good fortune.”

“You're damn right about that,” Dean mumbled from the floor.

The room became quiet again as everyone lost themselves in thought. Castiel sincerely hoped that Bobby's suggestion was corrected. The last thing he and Dean needed was to have an outside complication during their pregnancy. Keeping their child safe and healthy was already difficult enough without the added hardship of being hunted down by other angels...

“Dickie?”

Castiel raised his head at the sound of Gabriel's worried voice. The archangel had stood back up and was now looking around the room with confusion. Sam, too, spun around in circles as everyone searched for Gabriel's dog. Where had he gone? Castiel had just seen him in the store. Was he okay?

“Dickie?” Gabriel called again, his voice pitching higher with panic, “Dickie?!”

Before anyone could become too frantic, the little dog suddenly popped in from the study. Sam and Gabriel exhaled sighs of relief as they watched Dickie trot his way happily into the kitchen. As the dog drew closer, Castiel realized that he was carrying something in his mouth. Something small, and yellow, and soft-looking... The dog wandered all the way over to Dean and Castiel on the floor, where he dropped the object into Cas's lap.

It was the fuzzy honey bee from the mobile in the store.

An intense wave of emotion swept over Castiel as he picked up the little stuffed insect. The angel could feel a storm of hormones swirling through his body, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was so _happy_ all of the sudden. So full of indescribable _emotion_. Oh, the bee was so _beautiful_. And Dickie had retrieved it for _him_. For his _son_.

With tears swelling in his eyes, Castiel gave an audible sob before scooping up the little dog and hugging him tightly. He was so glad that Gabriel's dog was alive. He was so glad that his family was still around him. He was so glad to have a stuffed honey bee for his son. He felt so overwhelmingly happy! So joyous! So _loved_!

“Uh, Cas? Baby, are you crying?” Dean nearly whispered, sounding surprised.

“I... I'm just so happy, Dean,” Castiel sobbed, letting go of the the dog in order to wrap his arms around Dean's shoulders, “and I... I love you so much!”

Dean patted Castiel's back in return, though he seemed a little bewildered.

“I, uh, I love you too, Cas,” he mumbled, sounding lost.

Though his sight was blurring with tears, Castiel was still able to see Sam point toward him from across the room. The younger Winchester was wearing a look of confirmation, as if he had been expecting to see Castiel cry for quite some time.

“Hormones,” Sam explained quietly, sharing a glance with his brother, “That's probably gonna happen a lot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor pregnant Cas is so emotional. Lol. :) Yeah, I know that Bobby Singer never had any of his own kids in canon. And yes, I know that his wife Karen was probably never pregnant. But for the sake of the story, let's just roll with it, eh? :) The baby's name will finally be revealed in the next chapter! Go enjoy! :)


	5. Chapter 5

After getting Cas to stop crying – and making him a sandwich, because he said he was hungry again – Dean made it a point to ask Bobby if they could stay at his house for a few days. He didn't want to intrude on the poor guy's life too much, especially without asking for permission. Of course, Bobby said that he didn't mind at all. Hell, the old man even gave Sam and Gabe his spare bedroom and pulled out the couch bed in the study for Dean and Cas, providing places for them all to sleep.

And for the first time in a long time, Dean gave his friend Bobby a genuine _hug;_ a good solid embrace that stated his honest gratitude. This whole 'pregnancy' thing was making Dean appreciate Bobby more than ever. The guy was like a father to Dean and he was so glad that Bobby was still around to give him helpful advice and support during this unfamiliar experience. Not wanting to make things too sappy or awkward, though, Dean just hugged Bobby and said a quick ' _thank you_ ' before getting ready for bed.

When it started turning dark outside, Sam and Gabe eventually wandered off to their own room with Bobby right behind them. Dean brushed his teeth and stripped down to a t-shirt and underwear before crawling into bed beside Cas. The angel was already laying on the couch bed, holding his glowing stomach with both hands and staring down at it with wonder. Dean smirked as he watched Cas stare at his own ever-growing belly with studious blue eyes. He loved it when curiosity took over Cas's expression like that. Dean loved it when Cas was totally astounded by something, and the fact that he was now astounded by _their child_ made it all so much sweeter.

For a while, Bobby's house was silent. The only sounds in the study were the small tick of a nearby clock and the rustle of Cas breathing in and out softly. Before Dean knew it, he found himself nodding off; closing his eyes and resting his head against the pillow beneath him. His hand snaked its way under the covers to wrap around Cas's torso, like it always did when they were in bed together – but his palm stopped abruptly to rest on top of the angel's stomach, instead. Cas's body heat seemed to be centered right there, just hovering over his tight round stomach.

For some reason, touching Cas made Dean remember what happened at the store when they were attacked by those random angels. Part of Dean was worried that more angels would attack through the night and try to kill them or something. So the man left his hand on top of Cas's warm bump in a protective manner, just in case anyone was stupid enough to break into Bobby's house and try to hurt his angel or his kid. Dean would never let _anyone_ hurt his family. Not even while he slept.

Eventually, Dean dozed off while cradling his angel close to him... and woke up the next morning to the heavenly sight of Cas's face directly in front of his own.

Bobby's study was dimly lit with morning sunlight as the man briefly raise a hand to wipe the sleep from his eyes. He was surprised to find that he had slept all night long and actually felt well-rested for once. But even more shocking than that was the fact that Cas was actually _sleeping_ next to him. The angel's eyes were closed and his mouth was open slightly, muttering quiet snores with every breath. For a few minutes, Dean simply blinked and searched Cas's face, watching him breathe in and out as the sunlight gradually brightened the room around them. The man couldn't recall ever seeing Cas sleep before. The dude was an angel. He didn't need to sleep. It was only after stealing a glance toward the glowing blanket between them that Dean realized that the pregnancy must have been causing Cas to feel sleepy.

Although seeing Cas sleep was a bit weird, Dean secretly enjoyed it anyway. Man, Cas looked so damn _peaceful_. His dark hair was tossed all over his head, his limbs were cast limply at his sides, and he just looked _good_. A smile spread across Dean's lips as he carefully reached up to brush some of the angel's dark hair away from his forehead. Damn, Cas looked so beautiful when he was asleep. Dean wanted to wake up to this sight for the rest of his life...

After Dean raked his fingers through Cas's soft hair, the angel slowly stirred from his sleep. His sapphire eyes blinked open to look around and the sheer amount of blue nearly took Dean's breath away. Cas's gorgeous eyes eventually found Dean's and the two of them stared at each other for a moment while bright sunlight crept into the room. Dean smirked as his angel as he ran his hand through Cas's hair one more time.

“'Mornin', baby,” he muttered in a deep voice.

A similar smile carefully grew across Cas's face – before disappearing abruptly. The guy looked totally serious for a moment as his hand flew up to his stomach.

“I have to urinate,” the angel blurted.

Before Dean could even blink, Cas suddenly disappeared from the bed. The man's hand lunged out to touch the warm vacant spot beside him in a fit of worry. Where the hell did Cas go? Did he really have to pee that bad? Dean's questions seemed to be answered when he heard a door slam and the sound of water-on-water echoed from down the hallway. Yep, Cas really _did_ need to pee. Geez, this pregnancy thing was making him act so weird.

As Dean sat up and yawned on the couch bed, Sam wandered into the study from the hall. His long hair was jutting out in different directions and his mouth was full of foam. Sam was clutching a toothbrush too, as he stopped in the doorway to give Dean a raised eyebrow.

“Your boyfriend just shoved me out of the bathroom,” he mumbled with a foamy mouth, sounding appalled.

Dean grinned as he tossed back some blankets and climbed to his feet.

“Cas is growing a new person inside his body, Sammy. I think that gives him the right of way,” the older brother replied.

After hearing Dean's statement, Sam kind of shrugged and wandered into the kitchen where he finished brushing his teeth near the large sink. Gabriel, of course, wasn't too far behind. The archangel followed Sam in from the hallway and walked himself over to plop down in Bobby's desk chair. His dog ran in after him too, carrying around that stupid stuffed moose again.

“Good morning, baby-daddy,” Gabriel grinned toward Dean, easing back into Bobby's chair, “How goes the pregnancy?”

Dean huffed a breath before shooting Gabriel a fed up glare. Baby-daddy? Really? He couldn't have come up with a better name than that? Dean was about to tell him that the pregnancy seemed to be going fine when Cas appeared in the doorway. The angel's white shirt was unbuttoned at the bottom, giving his large stomach room to bulge out into the open. There was a strange look on Cas's face too, as he stared down at his own glowing body. Dean studied Cas's expression, seeing a hint of worry in his blue eyes.

“I think something is wrong,” Cas almost whispered, placing his hand against the bump.

Dean could feel himself suddenly going into panic mode. Oh shit, something was _wrong_? What was it? Was the baby okay? Was Cas okay? What was happening? How could Dean help? Feeling jittery, Dean stepped forward to carefully grab Cas by the arm and lead the pale angel back to the couch bed, where he sat Cas down and quickly searched over him. Sammy darted in from the kitchen and Gabriel jumped up from the desk too, both seeming equally concerned.

“What is it, Cas?” Dean asked, kneeling on the floor in front of him.

Cas timidly glanced around at everyone's faces before looking back down at his own stomach. Dean looked down at it too, and could tell that it had grown overnight. The bump was at least a few inches bigger than it was the day before and glowing a little brighter. God, their kid was growing so _fast_.

“He... he has all of his limbs and most of his major organs now, as well as a bit of brainwave activity,” Cas said slowly, talking about the baby, “... but, he isn't moving. If he remains motionless in the womb, I fear that he won't have mobility outside of it, either.”

Dean's heart sank. No mobility? Their kid won't be able to move? To walk or run?! But why?! Dean was on the verge of freaking out – but Gabriel was on the verge of laughter. The archangel let out a long ' _psssshh_ ' before waving a dismissing hand toward Cas.

“Oh, give the kid a break, Cassie,” Gabriel said casually, “He's still in the middle of development! So what, if he's not moving right now? He's probably just being lazy like his uncle Gabe.”

“ _Or_ maybe it's too soon for him to start moving,” Sam swooped in to say as he stepped back into the kitchen to retrieve his laptop, “A lot of these websites say that each pregnancy is different and that sometimes movement won't be detected until later in the – ”

“ _I don't care what your device says!_ ” Cas suddenly barked.

Dean, Sam, and Gabriel all flinched away with shock at Cas's sudden outburst. The angel was glaring forcefully toward Sam and cradling his stomach protectively as if Sammy had insulted him or something. Dean shared a glance with his little brother and could see that Sam was just as surprised. Whoa, those hormones were giving Cas some major mood swings...

“I know how my child is developing,” the angel went on, his voice still housing bitterness and anger, “I can feel his entire form. He has everything necessary for movement but is still immobile. _Do not act as though you know what I am experiencing_!”

The room was silent for a few seconds because everyone was too afraid to talk out of fear of being the target of Cas's unyielding wrath. Luckily, Sam seemed to find the courage to be the first to reply.

“Well,” Sammy squeaked, glancing toward his computer, “M – maybe talking to him might help..?”

Cas's glare seemed to soften a bit after he heard Sam's suggestion. The anger on his face seemed to subside too, suddenly replaced with hopefulness and curiosity.

“Talking to him?” Cas repeated quietly.

“Actually, yeah. That's a pretty good idea,” Gabriel jumped in to add, offering Sam some support, “Maybe if he hears someone's voice, he'll move around. Kinda like responding with dance.”

The archangel knelt down beside Dean just like he did the day before in order to lean close to Cas's stomach.

“Hey there, lil' nephew,” Gabriel said loudly, reaching up to tap on the tight bump, “It's me, again! Your uncle Gabe! Say, do you know how to do the Macarena? What about the electric slide? The whip? The nae-nae? Can you moonwalk, yet?”

“ _Stop_ ,” Cas demanded in a firm tone, smacking Gabriel's hand away, “He does not understand your bizarre phrases. Besides, I believe he will respond more effectively to _his father's_ voice.”

Every eye in the room slowly fell on Dean, and Dean could feel the blood draining from his own face. Wait, what? Cas wanted _him_ to talk to the baby? But why? What could he possibly say that was any different than what Gabriel was rambling on about?

“Uh,” Dean breathed, feeling like he was under the harsh glare of a spotlight, “Cas, I don't –”

Cas interrupted Dean's fearful excuses by reaching down to caress his face. Dean gulped at the gentle sensation of Cas's soft fingers touching his cheeks and sliding up to run through his hair.

“Please, Dean,” the angel urged quietly, “Speak to our child.”

Although Cas's encouragement was pretty damn persuasive, Dean was still felt nervous about talking to their kid. What was he going to say? What if his kid was actually listening? What if he messed up and said something wrong? Dean took a breath and raised a hand to cradle the bottom part of Cas's glowing stomach, feeling the angel's body heat against his palm. Shit. His kid was right there. What was he going to say?

While Dean searched for words to speak, he could feel every eye in the room on him again. Gabriel, Sam, and Cas – even Gabriel's dog – were all staring at him, waiting anxiously for him to talk to the baby. But silence seemed to stretch on because Dean was under so much freaking _pressure_. Ugh, why was this so damn difficult? All he had to do was talk! Why couldn't he find words?

“Uh, do you need a script or something?” Gabriel asked.

Dean huffed a breath of aggravation before reaching over to grab a blanket from the bed. He needed some privacy with his kid, dammit, and the only way to do that was to be alone with him. Hoping to block out everyone else, Dean draped the heavy blanket over his own head and around Cas's stomach. The glowing bump lit up the confined space and gave Dean a clear view. It was just Dean and Cas's lower half, now. No more eyes were on them. It was just the two of them, just Dean and his unborn son.

The man took another breath as he reached up to hold both sides of Cas's tight stomach. Even though he felt more comfortable, Dean still didn't know what to say. Should he go with the old, ' _hey, this is your dad speaking_ '? Ugh, no. Dean didn't want to refer to himself as a dad. That was just too creepy. But what else could he say? Cas wanted the baby to hear his voice, so what could he do if not speak? That was when a brilliant idea popped into Dean's head.

Maybe he didn't have to speak. Maybe he could do something else instead...

Dean took the time to clear his throat and lean close to Cas's stomach. He wanted to make sure his mouth was as close to the angel's glowing skin as possible because he was going to do this very quietly. He was going to _sing_ very quietly. The way his mom always used to sing to him...

“ _Hey Jude..._ ” Dean sang in a deep voice, dragging out the words for as long as he could, “ _Don't make it bad.... Take a sad song, and make it_ -”

Dean's voice suddenly got caught in his throat... because he felt a small nudge against his hand. It was the _baby_. The baby had _moved_. Cas must have felt it too because the angel suddenly ripped the blanket away to look down at his own stomach in wonder. Dean was utterly speechless. All he could do is stare at Cas's bump in shock. Holy shit! The baby moved! He moved because Dean sang to him! Because he heard Dean's voice!

“What? What happened?” Sam asked, lunging closer.

“H – He... moved,” Dean breathed, feeling moisture swelling in his own eyes.

“No way! Lemme feel it!” Gabriel said, stumbling over to quickly put his hand on Cas's stomach.

Sam, too, leaned down to put a hand on Cas's stomach. They were all cradling the bump then, covering Cas's entire belly with fingers and waiting for the baby to move again. Cas's blue eyes met Dean's and the angel was smiling brightly with excitement.

“Do it again, Dean,” he requested.

Although he still felt a little nervous, Dean leaned forward to bring his mouth close to the angel's stomach. He was staring at everyone's hands as he began to quietly sing again.

“ _Hey Jude... Don't be afraid_ ,” Dean hummed lowly, caressing Cas's skin with his thumbs, “ _You were made to go out and_ –”

A tiny kick came from Cas's stomach, making everyone gasp in delightful surprise. Smiles lit up every face in the room as they all felt the baby moving around under their hands. Dean actually let out a chuckle as he looked up to see the joyous awe painted on Cas's face. Their kid was _moving!_ He was alive and well and he loved hearing Dean's voice! He loved hearing his father talk to him!

“This is so awesome,” Sam mentioned, looking impressed.

“Yeah, that kid is basically a soccer player already,” Gabriel grinned.

“And Jude is a lovely name,” Cas said, rubbing the bump, “I believe it fits him very well.”

Dean's smile faltered a bit after he realized what Cas said. Wait. Did Cas actually think that Dean was giving their kid a name? Didn't Cas know that it was just a song?

“N – No, Cas,” Dean said, shaking his head, “'Hey Jude' is a song. You know, by the Beatles?”

“Yeah,” Gabriel agreed, sitting down on the bed beside Cas, “And 'Jude' also happens to be a book in the bible. In fact, its the same book that, um... talks about our dad condemning angels for rebelling against him. Kind of ironic, isn't it?”

“Yeah, but, that's not the kid's name,” Dean replied, shaking his head, “I mean, I wasn't calling him Jude or anything. I was just singing the song -”

“Hello, Jude,” Cas said, staring down at his stomach and clutching it with both hands, “I am your other father and I am glad that you possess full mobility of your body.”

As much as Dean wanted to dispute the fact that everybody thought he was calling his kid 'Jude', he couldn't help but swallow his argument. Cas looked so damn happy, talking to his own belly and feeling their baby move around. Dean didn't want to take that away from him by starting a dumb argument... But he was definitely going to come back to the whole naming thing later.

While all the guys crowded around Cas and cooed over the pregnancy, footsteps came in from the hallway. Bobby casually strolled through the study to get to the kitchen and he was carrying a few items in his hands – including the huge box of diapers that they had accidentally stolen from the store the night before. Everybody watched the old man go all the way to the kitchen table, where he sat down his supplies. Afterward, Bobby turned to glance between Dean and Sam, looking pretty determined.

“Alright, boys. Get in here,” he said, waving them in, “I'm gonna teach y'all a thing or two about takin' care of babies.”

* * *

Castiel shoveled yet another spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth as he watched Dean and Sam attempt to properly wrap diapers around a couple of inanimate objects. Dean was using a toy doll and Sam was using a stuffed teddy bear in place of an actual infant. And Bobby was standing nearby to coach them, giving them helpful advice and tips on how to maintain a child's hygiene during the first few months of infancy.

Castiel and Gabriel were both sitting at the table and observing the activity while eating a large lunch. When Bobby began to instruct the brothers, Cas's offspring suddenly became hungry again, causing the angel's stomach to ache until he finally gave in and asked Gabriel to retrieve food for him. And with the simple snap of his fingers, Gabriel stocked Bobby's entire kitchen with goods. The archangel even prepared a dish of oatmeal and toast for him as well before nestling into a comfortable seat to watch the Winchesters. Now, both angels were observing their humans, secretly finding humor in their obvious distress.

“Bobby, this sticky part isn't sticking anymore,” Sam complained, pointing out one of the flaps on the diaper, “I think I need a new one.”

“Ha!” Dean suddenly rejoiced, holding up the baby doll to display his work, “Look at that! Boom! I am the diaper _king_!”

“Well pardon me, yer highness, but that diaper's on backwards,” Bobby pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

Dean inspected the doll in his hands before mumbling a few profanities and tossing it back on the table. Sam and Gabriel both chuckled a bit, which caused Dean's face to turn red. The man was obviously embarrassed about his premature celebration.

“Don't beat yourself up over it, son,” Bobby consoled quietly, “Diaperin' a baby ain't exactly the most important part. First, you gotta get the kid clean.”

“He means poop,” Gabriel said, grinning at Dean, “You have to clean up the poop.”

“Thanks, Gabe. I think we got it,” Sam sighed, rolling his eyes.

The baby suddenly moved within Castiel's grace again, causing the angel to flinch in surprise. Ever since Dean had stirred him into motion earlier, the baby had been moving ever since, stretching out his tiny body every so often in an effort to get into a more comfortable position. Cas cradled his stomach for a moment, hoping that his child would find a more satisfying adjustment inside his tight vessel. There was not much room for him to move in, but the baby eventually found a more agreeable spot and relaxed inside. Castiel smiled down at the top of his rounded abdomen as he carefully let go. The sheer awesomeness of pregnancy was indescribably amazing...

“Ugh, I think this diaper is defective,” Sam grumbled, removing it from the teddy bear and tossing it on the table with defeat.

“Oh, come on, Sammy-boy. You can't give up that easily! Here, gimme that,” Gabriel said, swiping the diaper off the table and hopping up from the chair.

Everyone watched as the archangel quickly dashed into the study. He returned a moment later with the diaper in one hand and Dickie's plush moose in the other. Of course, Gabriel's dog immediately followed him into the kitchen, probably wondering what his owner was going to do with his most beloved possession.

“Now, the trick is to get it pretty tight around the waist without cutting off circulation,” Gabriel informed, sounding like an expert.

The archangel placed the toy moose on top of the open diaper before wrapping both sides around the front and taping them down. In the meantime, Dickie was jumping up and down near the table, trying his best to see what was taking place. Once the diaper was on, Gabriel picked up the stuffed moose and presented it to Sam.

“See, Sammy? It just takes a little skill,” the archangel winked.

Sam gave Gabriel a sarcastic smile but Bobby scoffed loudly behind him.

“Skill?” the old man repeated, “Try puttin' a diaper on somethin' that won't stop wigglin' around and then you can brag about havin' skills, pipsqueak.”

Once Bobby issued the challenge, determination flashed across Gabriel's face. The archangel tossed the stuffed moose away before reaching down into the floor to pick up his small dog. Gabriel carefully laid Dickie on his back on the table and grabbed another diaper. Dickie, of course, was trying his best to get away, kicking his legs and behaving as though he thought his life was in danger. Everyone watched with humorous smiles as Gabriel did his best to get a diaper around his dog's lower half. He eventually succeeded, wrapping the bottom portion between the dog's hind legs before quickly taping the sides together.

“Ta-da!” Gabriel sang, holding up his diapered dog.

Sam was on the verge of laughter, holding a hand over his mouth to contain a chuckle. Dean shook his head with a smile and Bobby simply rolled his eyes. Poor Dickie appeared to be embarrassed. The little dog lowered his head in defeat and blinked away bashfully as everyone stared at him.

“Great job,” Bobby mumbled, sounding unimpressed, “If anyone ever needs help diaperin' a dog, we'll give you a call.”

Gabriel's prideful smirk melted away as he carefully lowered Dickie into the floor. Castiel watched the canine wobble over to his stuffed moose, where he whined quietly. Although Castiel knew his hormones had a large role to play in his emotions, the angel couldn't help but feel a little sorry for the dog. That toy was very special to Dickie and it was clear that he didn't like being physically separated from it...

While everyone else struck up a new conversation, Castiel carefully raised from the table and eased over to the doorway. The angel cradled his stomach as he knelt down on the floor before reaching out to free Dickie and the stuffed moose. He removed the diapers from both of them and gave the dog a soft pat. Dickie was clearly grateful to be rid of the obstructions. The dog gave Cas's hand a tiny lick, showing his appreciation.

“You're welcome,” Castiel whispered, “Consider it reimbursement for yesterday.”

The angel knew that the dog didn't understand was he was saying, but it felt good to voice his thoughts. Dickie simply grabbed his moose and trotted off with it in his mouth, probably taking it somewhere to hide it from his owner. Castiel watched him go as he carefully climbed back to his feet and patted his left pocket. The small stuffed honey bee was in there, delicately hidden inside his coat for safe keeping. Behind Cas, everyone was still talking about various aspects of the pregnancy and the angel rejoined the conversation just in time to hear Dean ask a very important question.

“How exactly do angels give birth, anyway? I mean, does the kid just kinda fly outta the womb on its own? Or does Cas have to push or something?” he pondered, flashing the angel a worried glance.

Castiel was very curious to hear the answer to this question as well. He had been so preoccupied with Dean and the pregnancy itself that he didn't stop to think about how their child would actually emerge from his grace when the time came.

“Uh, I'm pretty sure there won't be any pushing,” Sam denied, his face turning red, “The baby will probably have to be extracted, kinda like a Cesarean section. Right, Gabe?”

Everyone in the room turned to look at Gabriel and Castiel immediately sensed a difference in the archangel's behavior. Gabriel's golden eyes were suddenly fixed on Castiel and every trace of humor had left his expression. He was no longer the mischievous and playful character that everyone knew him to be. Now, Gabriel appeared to be more serious than he had ever been before. Sam seemed to sense the drastic change in the archangel's demeanor as well. The younger Winchester edged a bit closer to Gabriel in the kitchen and touched his arm, attempting to regain his attention. But Gabriel only blinked hard toward Castiel as if some paralyzing thought had just entered his mind.

“Right,” the archangel uttered, his voice holding no emotion, “... extracted.”

Gabriel's breathless tone caused worry to spike throughout Castiel's being. Why was his brother behaving in such an odd manner? What was causing Gabriel to seem so unlike himself? Was there something about Sam's statement that frightened him? Why was he staring so forcefully at Castiel? Dean and Bobby eventually shrugged off the conversation and walked over to begin clearing the kitchen table. In the meantime, Gabriel seemed to regain control over his motor function. He pulled himself from Sam's grasp and stepped forward to take Castiel by the arm.

“We need to talk,” he almost whispered.

Before Castiel could ask his brother what they needed to discuss, Gabriel flew them to a more private area. They both appeared just outside of Bobby's house between two stacks of mangled cars. The inertia of the short flight actually caused a flicker of nausea to echo from Castiel's stomach. The baby wiggled around inside his grace too, making it clear that he did not appreciate being flown around. Cas briefly clutched the side of his own stomach as he looked back up to meet Gabriel's eyes.

“What is it, brother?” Castiel prompted, wishing to know the cause of his distress.

“I... I didn't think about it before, but Sam's right,” Gabriel breathed, “We're gonna have to cut the baby out of you.”

Castiel blinked and took a breath, feeling a little confused. The act of cutting open a womb to extract an infant was becoming quite a common practice among humans. Although it wasn't the traditional way to give birth, Castiel was sure that it would be the easiest method for him to deliver his child, given that he didn't possess the proper vessel to deliver the baby naturally. And Cas was perfectly content with the procedure.

“Okay,” the angel nodded.

“ _No_ ,” Gabriel denied fearfully as he shook his head and clung to his brother's arm, “He'll have to be cut out of you with _an angel blade,_ Cas... Castiel, you... you might not make it.”

Utter terror suddenly washed through Castiel's body, causing the blood to drain from his face and his heart to nearly seize up with dread. As horrific as the notion was, Cas knew that Gabriel was right. The child would have to be extracted with an angel blade because it was the only thing powerful enough to break through his celestial grace. But damaging his grace at all could very well lead to destroying his grace completely... which meant it would also end his life.

Strangely, the first thing that came to Castiel's mind after hearing that his life might end was Dean. Cas didn't want Dean to suffer. Especially not now, after finally coming to terms with being a father. If Dean were to learn that the pregnancy was putting Castiel's life in danger, there was no telling what he would do to insure Cas's safety. But there was no need for Dean to think about such things. He needed to focus on the development of their precious son, not the fact that Castiel's life may be in danger...

After swallowing a hard gulp, Castiel looked up to meet his brother's golden eyes once more. He needed to ask a favor of Gabriel; one simple favor that would maintain peace until the time of his child's arrival.

“Do not tell Dean,” Castiel requested quietly.

Although Gabriel seemed quite distraught, he shared a look of understanding with Castiel before slowly forcing a nod, silently agreeing to keep the horrific information to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think of the name 'Jude'? Cute, right? :) It's gonna take Dean some time to get used to that name, but I think he'll learn to love it eventually. :0I'm sorry about this little cliffhanger at the end. But don't worry about it too much. It's just another complication. One of the many complications that the boys are gonna have to deal with during this pregnancy. ;)


	6. Chapter 6

Before rescuing Dean from hell, Castiel never concerned himself with death.

Dying was a _human_ trait. The process by which the soul was freed from the flesh and delivered to heaven or hell. But this unique process was only gifted to humans because they were blessed with actual souls. Angels, on the other hand, were given _grace_ ; super-charged spirits that were strong enough to withstand any form of disease, age, ailment, or weapon – except for one.

The angel blade was created to destroy celestial grace of any strength. It did not discriminate between the grace of a seraph and the grace of the highest ranking archangel. All celestial beings were equally vulnerable to its lethal power. And when an angel's grace was destroyed, that angel did not return to heaven. It simply ceased to exist, wiped from the universe in a flash of light, leaving the power of God almighty as the only chance of being brought back to life.

Castiel knew all of this beforehand, of course. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Cas understood that his own grace was not immune to the deadly smiting power of angel blades. He knew that if his grace was ever punctured by that fatal blade, he may cease to exist before he could even blink an eye...

He just never thought he would have to welcome the slice of that blade to insure the life of his offspring.

For millenniums, Castiel had pondered his own worth. He struggled to discover what his purpose was; the reason why his father had created him and the duty he was destined to carry out. And when he rescued Dean Winchester, Castiel assumed that he had found the answer. He thought that his purpose was to be with _Dean_. To save him, and love him, and give him everything he needed so that he could continue to be the righteous man and save humanity many times over. That was the reason why Castiel continued to come back to him, wasn't it? That was the reason why he yearned to be near Dean and always heed the man's beckon call, right? Didn't Castiel's purpose simply consist of being at Dean Winchester's side?

“What's wrong, Cas?”

Castiel briefly left his thoughts at the sound of Dean's voice. By now, the two of them were laying in bed together in the study. Everyone else had ventured off to their own rooms and the windows were dark, which made the angel realize that it was nightfall already. And Castiel could _feel_ that it was time for bed as well. His eyes were growing weary and his body ached with exhaustion. But his mind refused to settle.

Dean was staring at Castiel with worried emerald eyes, resting his head against the same pillow and reaching over to place his hand on top of the angel's glowing stomach. The baby responded to Dean's touch almost instantly, shifting eagerly inside Cas's tight vessel. Castiel took a large breath in order to prepare his words. He did not want Dean to worry about him or their child. He wanted Dean to remain peaceful and happy throughout the entire pregnancy, no matter what events lay ahead...

“... Hormones,” Castiel lied, hoping it was a sufficient answer.

In response, Dean shifted closer to Castiel on the bed. The man wrapped the angel – and his large stomach – into warm and loving embrace, holding him close to stare directly into his eyes.

“Don't worry, baby,” the man breathed, nestling his head close to Cas's, “It'll be over soon.”

Castiel gulped hard and closed his eyes. He did not want Dean to see the fear in them. He did not want Dean to see that he was dreading the end of the pregnancy. Dreading the sharp edge of an angel blade...

“... and then, we're gonna be dads,” Dean added, sounding as though he was slipping in and out of consciousness, “... You and me... Dads... Man, you're gonna be the hottest dad ever, Cas... Like Dr. Sexy with a baby on his hip... Mmm... Yeah... Sounds awesome...”

After a few moments of silence, Castiel opened his eyes again to see that Dean was asleep beside him. The man had drifted off to lovely thoughts of Castiel being a father and it utterly broke the angel's heart. Castiel wanted to be like Dr. Sexy and carry their child around on his hip just as Dean described. He wanted to help Dean take care of their son and protect them both from harm... But what if he couldn't? What if the angel blade cut too deep and smote him from existence instead?

Though his body was exhausted, Castiel spent most of the night tossing and turning next to Dean. Worry and agonizing stress kept him awake, locking him in an endless loop of terrible thoughts. The baby was even beginning to be effected by Castiel's emotional state. The longer the night went on, the more the developing infant wiggled around in Cas's grace, seeming equally restless.

Hoping to ease his child's distress, Castiel eventually climbed out of bed and wandered over to sit at Bobby's desk. The angel's trench coat was hanging off the back of the desk chair and when Castiel sat down, he dove his hand into one of the pockets, searching around for the items he had hidden there. He retrieved both the jar of honey that Dean had given him and the stuffed bee from Gabriel's dog and placed them on the desk. For a while, Castiel simply stared at both objects and allowed his mind to wander.

Looking at the honey – the precious golden liquid all pooled around the waxy honeycomb – made Castiel recall the process of its creation. Large numbers of bees ventured out into the world and gathered nectar from multiple flowers, pollinating them without being aware. And then, for one reason or another, the bees simply died; allowing the next generation to take its place. Perhaps creating honey was a bee's only purpose. Maybe their only goal in life was to take part in a precious miracle and share it with the members of its hive...

And perhaps that was Castiel's purpose, too.

Perhaps Castiel was simply destined to provide Dean Winchester with a son. A child that would carry on his name and start the next generation of his family. Perhaps Castiel's purpose was to love Dean so much that he wouldn't mind sacrificing himself in order to bring their child into the world. Because it was _true_. Castiel would do _anything_ for Dean and their unborn child... even if it meant dying for them.

Castiel reached forward to pick up the cool jar of honey, watching the amber goo slowly slide along the glass. Staring at the perfect hexagon tubes made the angel feel strangely better all of the sudden. Maybe dying for someone else wasn't such a terrible thing. Giving Dean a son was an honorable act and one that Castiel felt humbled to be a part of. Besides, he was more afraid of leaving Dean alone than he was of death itself.

Plus, there was still a small possibility that Castiel could _live_ through the procedure.

Carefully cutting open an angel's grace was much different than stabbing it with the intent to destroy. Perhaps someone with a steady hand could help deliver Castiel's child. Perhaps _Gabriel_ – with his crafty skills and knowledge of celestial anatomy – could help him safely give birth to his son. There was a chance that Castiel could actually _survive_ the birthing process, if Gabriel was involved... But, either way – whether he lived or if he died – the angel could be at peace in the knowledge that his purpose was fulfilled. Because as long as he was able to give his child the gift of life, and place that same child into the safety of Dean's arms, Castiel was indifferent about his own outcome...

While the angel smiled down at the honey jar in his lap, he suddenly felt a pair of hands easing up his back. The large fingers crept over Castiel's shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze as a pair of moist lips pressed against the angel's temple.

“You're up early,” Dean whispered, his hot breath sending shivers down Castiel's spine.

Castiel smiled up at Dean's precious face as the man carefully rounded the desk chair to see him properly. Morning light was starting to peek in from the windows, casting a soft glow on all of Dean's lovely features. Dean always looked so good at this hour, with the light of a new day caressing his freckled skin and his green eyes fresh from sleep. Just seeing Dean again made Castiel feel at ease...

With an overwhelming sense of tranquility and adoration, the angel stood up from the chair to bring his lips to Dean's. He kissed his human with all the passion he could muster, cradling the back of Dean's soft head and allowing their tongues to meet and dance. At first, Dean was surprised by the sudden intimate action but he quickly caught up to Castiel's pace.

“Mmm,” Dean hummed, before carefully pulling back to smile and stroke the angel's face, “Well, good morning to you too, Cas. How's our little egg doing in the incubator?”

“Jude is fine, Dean,” Castiel replied, reaching down between them to touch his own stomach.

Dean's happy expression faltered a bit after he heard Castiel refer to their son by his name.

“I – I wasn't calling him Jude,” Dean denied, huffing a breath and shaking his head, “It was just a song. I wasn't giving him a name -”

“He does seem a bit hungry,” Castiel went on, refusing to acknowledge Dean's statements, “But then again, he _always_ seems a bit hungry.”

Although Dean was clearly adamant about discussing their child's name, the man dismissed his own argument and reached down to caress the angel's stomach instead. His green eyes drank in the sight of Castiel's glowing, rounded skin as he leaned closer to him in the study.

“Just like his old man,” Dean whispered, sounding proud, “Hey, uh, why don't we sneak out and get breakfast together, huh? Just the two of us. Well, just the _three_ of us,” he corrected, caressing Cas's stomach again.

The smile that flashed across Castiel's lips was enough to make his entire face glow with happiness. Sharing a private meal with Dean and their unborn son suddenly seemed like the greatest blessing in the world...

“I would like that very much, Dean,” Castiel replied truthfully.

“Uh, can we make it five?”

Dean and Castiel both turned toward the other side of the study to see Sam and Gabriel standing in the doorway. They were both fully dressed and glancing between Dean and Castiel with eager anticipation. They had obviously overheard the conversation and wanted to venture out for breakfast as well. Dean exhaled a long breath of annoyance and briefly tilted his head back to give a small glare to the ceiling.

“Fine,” he eventually mumbled, “but you guys get to pay.”

“Deal,” Gabriel chorused.

Just as Castiel was about to let go of Dean and allow him to retrieve the keys to the Impala, Gabriel suddenly snapped his fingers – and flew them all away. Everyone appeared near the entrance of a local diner, still standing in the same positions they were in back in Bobby's study. Again, the inertia of flying caused the baby to feel uncomfortable. The infant instantly shifted inside Cas's grace again, giving a violent kick in the process. Nausea immediately fell over Castiel as well, causing vomit to rise in his throat.

“Dammit, Gabriel, I was going to _drive_ ,” Dean grumbled.

“But this is faster,” Gabriel argued.

Not wanting to get Dean dirty, Castiel shoved the man away and fell to his knees where he vomited on the ground. The baby made a few more motions inside Cas's grace during the angel's act of vomiting, stretching his small legs and arms with every tight heave as Cas's stomach contorted. The utter discomfort of nausea eventually began to wear off and Castiel leaned back to sit up properly, giving his child the adequate room he needed to relax. Castiel wiped his own mouth with a trembling hand, feeling queasy. Obviously, his offspring did not favor the act of flying.

“Cas, are you okay?!” Dean asked urgently, kneeling down to cradle the angel's head.

“Jude... hates... flying,” Castiel replied carefully, closing his eyes to combat the sickness.

“That baby is definitely yours, Dean,” Sam commented.

“Okay, uh... Listen, Cas,” Dean said, gently raking his fingers through Castiel's hair, “You just sit right here and relax, okay? I'll go get some food and come back to you. Alright?” Dean paused briefly to peck a kiss to Castiel's forehead before standing up, “C'mon, Sammy. Gabriel, you stay here with him. Don't leave him alone. I mean it.”

“I've got this,” Gabriel assured, walking over to sit on the ground next to Castiel.

Cas forced his eyes to open just in time to watch both Winchesters stroll into the diner. His nausea had almost fully subsided and the baby finally relaxed inside his grace again. The angel was back to feeling somewhat normal – and the sudden realization that he was alone with Gabriel made Castiel recall his earlier thoughts of giving birth. Now seemed like an excellent time for them to discuss the means by which the baby should be delivered. Castiel reached over to place a hand on his brother's knee as he turned his head to meet eyes with him.

“Gabriel,” Castiel breathed.

“What is it, baby bird?” Gabriel replied, sounding semi-serious.

“When the time comes... I want you to deliver my child,” Cas replied.

Color seemed to drain from Gabriel's face, leaving it to match the paleness of his blonde hair. The archangel flashed a glance toward Castiel's protruding stomach before meeting his eyes again. There was genuine fear in Gabriel's expression, as if he had just learned that his own life was in danger.

“Me? _Me_? The _screw-up_? The _coward_? You really want to put an angel blade into _my_ hands and let _me_ slice you open?! Huh-uh. No way,” he denied, shaking his head.

“Listen to me, brother,” Castiel pleaded, “There is a small chance that my grace will be able to withstand an angel blade so long as someone handles the weapon with extreme caution. You simply have to make a small incision and extract the baby. My grace should restore itself after he is born -”

“And what if I mess it up, huh?” Gabriel interrupted, his eyes suddenly filling with terror, “What if my hand slips and I end up killing you by accident?!”

Castiel gulped, feeling a storm of emotions flood his system as he stared into his brother's worried eyes.

“If you do not do this, Gabriel... I will die anyway,” Castiel stated bluntly, “The baby will need to be extracted whether you do it or not. He comes first. Always. And I will not hesitate to sacrifice my own life for the sake of my child.”

For a few long moments, the two angels simply stared at each other in wonder. After a while, Gabriel's eyes slowly began to fill with admiration. A slight smile began to play on his lips as he glanced over Castiel's face.

“Dad would be very proud of you, Castiel,” Gabriel smirked, resting his hand on top of Cas's, “Alright, fine. I'll help you. But when the kid is born, I get to do the whole 'Lion King' thing and hold him up while singing a random African song. Okay?”

Although Castiel did not understand Gabriel's odd reference, the angel nodded anyway, agreeing to let Gabriel do whatever he wanted so long as he helped deliver the baby. Cas was about to reach over and wrap his brother into a loving, thankful embrace -

When two figures appeared in front of them.

At first, when Castiel saw the shadows on the ground, he assumed that the Winchesters had returned from the diner with breakfast. It wasn't until he looked up at the people before him that Castiel recognized the aura of angelic grace. Two angels – assassins, by their powerful and sleek composure – were standing less than ten feet in front of Castiel and Gabriel. They were both armed with angel blades... and their eyes were set on Castiel's stomach.

The assassins flashed forward, both darting toward Castiel with their weapons raised. Gabriel quickly shoved Castiel out of their path, rolling him a few yards away out of the range of impact. As soon as he regained his sense of direction, Castiel quickly scrambled to his feet and darted into the diner, cradling his stomach the entire time. In the back of his mind, the angel knew that he needed to fly away. He knew that he needed to escape the assassins and that flying was the quickest way to do it. But he did not want to leave Dean behind.

“ _Dean_ ,” Castiel called, seeing the Winchesters standing near the counter.

At Castiel's back, the diner windows suddenly shattered, having been blasted apart with a large explosion. In the chaos of people running and screaming, Castiel briefly looked back to see that Gabriel was fighting off the assassins. He was using large bombs of his own grace to keep them away. But the assassins did not seem interested in Gabriel. No, their attention was on _Castiel_. Both of them had followed the angel into the diner and were now running for him, holding their weapons at the ready.

Castiel stumbled back against a nearby table and covered his stomach as the Winchesters suddenly flashed into action. Sam and Dean both lunged forward to strike at the assassins. Sam picked up a nearby chair and broke it over one of the angels' heads while Dean reached out to grab the blade in the others' hand. Dean and the angel wrestled with the blade for a moment, before Dean gained the advantage. He bent the assassin's arm down and, with a quick jab, caused the angel to stab itself. A large blast of celestial grace shook the entire diner, lighting up the whole space and causing more windows to shatter. Castiel cringed and held onto his stomach, still covering it protectively.

In the meantime, Sam was still fighting with the other assassin, dodging the sharp end of an angel blade as the angel attempted to get passed him to Castiel. While the assassin's focus was on Sam, Gabriel popped up behind him. The archangel used his brute strength to pick up his celestial kin and toss him away, throwing him back through the broken windows of the diner. As soon as the assassin was separated from them, Gabriel snapped his fingers once more -

And everyone reappeared in Bobby's study.

Again, the motions of being flown around caused utter sickness to befall Castiel's body. The angel barely had time to open his eyes and see the floor before he vomited, heaving with every muscle in his stomach when he regurgitated onto Bobby's rug. He knew it was a very rude thing to do, but he couldn't stop himself from being sick. His body was reacting without his consent, catering to the baby's needs and his dislike of being zapped around.

“Cas,” Dean panted, carefully pulling Castiel back to see him properly, “Cas, are you okay?”

The angel gulped down the acidic remnants of vomit before forcing a nod. Other than being burdened with motion-sickness, Castiel was unharmed. Dean, of course, made sure to give the angel a quick visible exam before standing up to spin toward Gabriel.

“ _What the hell is going on?!_ ” Dean shouted, his voice tainted with fear and anger, “ _That's the second damn time we've been attacked by freakin' angels! Who the hell was that?! And why are they after Cas?!_ ”

When Dean's booming voice echoed through the house, footsteps suddenly ran into the study from the kitchen. Bobby jogged up wearing a look of confusion and shock.

“What happened?” he asked instantly.

“More angels,” Sam breathed, “They attacked us at a diner.”

“They're after _Cas_!” Dean spat, pointing toward him, “Those angels are trying to kill him and I want to know why! Dammit, Gabriel, why are they after him?! Tell me!”

“Whoa, don't look at me, pal! I don't know!” Gabriel said, holding his hands up in surrender.

“ _You're a freakin' archangel! Don't give me that bullshit!_ ” Dean yelled.

“ _Hey_! Calm down, Dean,” Sam said, jumping in to clutch both of his brother's shoulders, “Dude, just take a breath and relax, okay? Cas is fine. Look at him.”

Everyone in the room turned to look down at Castiel and the angel felt a little embarrassed. Vomit was all over the floor beside him and he was sure that he looked extremely pale. Hoping to appear more lively, Castiel sat up a little straighter and wiped his mouth. Thankfully, the act of looking at Castiel actually seemed to help Dean. The man did as his younger brother suggested and took an easing breath as he knelt back down to Castiel's side. One of Dean's large hands came up to rest on top of the angel's glowing stomach and his gentle touch seemed to put their baby at ease.

“Those halo-wearing pricks have always wanted Cas dead, but now it's worse,” Dean said, his voice lower than before, “That can only mean one thing...”

“They know about the pregnancy,” Sam finished breathlessly.

“How?” Bobby asked, inching closer into the study, “How could they've found out? He's only been pregnant for a few days and you fellas have been here most of the time.”

“And why don't they want him to have the baby?” Sam asked, glancing toward Gabriel, “Why are they trying to kill him during the pregnancy?”

“Sorry, moose, but I have no idea,” Gabriel shrugged, looking genuinely apologetic, “I haven't been upstairs for millenniums. Its hard to tell who's in charge and what they want.”

“Then why don't you make a quick trip up there and see what the hell's going on?” Dean asked.

Gabriel let out a small nervous chuckle.

“Pshh. Yeah, right. Why don't I just bring Hitler back from the dead and restart the apocalypse while I'm at it,” the archangel scoffed, “Look, freckles, even if I _could_ somehow sneak my way into the pearly gates, it doesn't mean I would be able to find anything. Besides, Mikey would probably have me killed on the spot.”

Dean huffed a breath of aggravation, seeming distressed by the lack of answers.

“So we just sit here and do _nothing_?” he barked.

“Dean,” Castiel said quietly.

The man instantly spun around to look at the angel and Castiel wanted to hold his attention for as long as possible. He didn't want Dean to become angry again, not while their child could hear his aggressive shouting. But when the angel opened his mouth to speak, a yawn cut off his words. The night of restlessness and the lingering effects of sickness had taken their toll on Castiel's body and he was now feeling the full weight of exhaustion. He pawed at Dean's shoulder as his yawn finally came to an end.

“Please do not shout,” the angel requested, feeling his eyelids grow heavy.

Dean sighed and reached up to cup the side of Castiel's face and the warm touch of his skin made the angel feel so weak. Dean must have sensed his weariness because the man reached around to cradle Castiel's entire head.

“Alright,” Dean almost whispered, “Come on, baby. Let's put you to bed.”

* * *

Dean took a deep breath as he stared down at Cas's pretty face. They were both laying in bed again, even though it was three o'clock in the day. Cas was completely out, snoozing quietly on the mattress with his arms draped loosely around Dean. His skin was glowing bright enough to match the sunshine in the window and he looked so damn peaceful. But Dean was wide awake beside him.

Dean couldn't even think about napping now, not after that angel attack at the diner. It had been a few hours since they had gotten back to Bobby's place, but Dean still couldn't shake off the suddenness of it. Those pricks had come out of nowhere, ready to kill Cas without a reason. And not knowing why they were there really pissed Dean off. He wanted to know why those freaking angels wanted his family dead. Sure, the Winchesters had earned a few enemies in their time and the angels had plenty of reasons to hate them. But Dean's _unborn kid_? Why the hell would anyone ever want to hurt a harmless little baby? Especially one that wasn't even born yet?

With another deep breath, Dean reached over to brush some of Cas's dark hair back, deliberately running his fingers through the silky strands at a slow pace. Between their bodies, Cas's stomach was glowing brightly, constantly drawing Dean's attention. The man eventually brought his hand down to cup the side of Cas's round stomach to feel the warmth and tightness of it. Dean knew that his kid was still growing in there. Just beyond that thin layer of skin, his tiny baby still in the middle of development. The poor little kid wasn't even done cooking yet and he already had people out to get him. But Dean would be _damned_ if he  ever let anyone hurt his child. Nobody was _ever_ gonna lay a finger on his son. As long as he was still drawing breath, Dean was always going to protect his kid. Especially while the little guy  was still in the incubator...

Quiet footsteps came into the study and Dean looked up to see Sam and Gabriel. The two them had been gone for a while and Dean had assumed that they had gone out for lunch or something. But when they came into the study, a distinct smell of blood and spray paint wafted in with them. Dean glanced between his brother and the archangel, feeling confused. What the hell had they been doing all this time?

“Dean,” Sam whispered, keeping his voice down for Cas, “How badly to you want answers?”

Dean swallowed a bit as his fingers stretched out to clutch more of Cas's tight stomach. Oh, man. He wanted answers really bad. But why was Sam asking such a weird question?

“Why?” Dean whispered back.

“Because... Bobby has a pretty good source of information,” Sam replied, choosing his words carefully.

“But you're not gonna like the source,” Gabriel added with a smirk, shaking his head.

Dean felt the urge to roll his eyes. Ah, hell. That didn't sound good. What had those guys been doing all day? And what the hell was Bobby up to?

“What are you talking about?” Dean hissed.

Sam scratched the back of his messy head of hair before gesturing toward the kitchen.

“Just come outside,” he offered, “Gabe can stay here with Cas. You're gonna need to speak to this guy yourself.”

Dean felt a little hesitant about actually getting up and following his brother. 'This guy'? Who was 'this guy'? And why did Dean need to talk to him? Even though he didn't want to leave Cas, Dean forced himself to carefully pull away from his angel's arms. Cas stayed peacefully asleep the whole time, even as his arms fell limply to the mattress in Dean's absence. Once Dean was standing, he took the time to lean over and stamp a loving kiss to Cas's warm forehead – and also leaned over to plant a kiss to the angel's glowing stomach. He made sure to press his lips right next to Cas's belly-button, wanting to get as close to the baby as possible.

“I'll be right back,” Dean promised in a whisper.

After he was sure that his angel and his baby were going to be okay under Gabriel's close watch, Dean turned around to follow his little brother toward the backdoor. Sammy led the way outside and into Bobby's salvage yard, heading toward one of the old man's many garages.

“Just for the record, this wasn't my idea, okay?” Sam mumbled as they walked, sounding a little nervous, “Bobby's the one who made the suggestion and I just went with it.”

“Oh, God,” Dean huffed, shaking his head, “Please tell me that you guys didn't do something stupid.”

“Stupid? No. Dangerous? Maybe,” Sam said, keeping his head down, “But we have a good reason for doing it.”

Dean could feel his nervousness rising as he and Sammy made their way closer to the garage. What could they have possibly done that was dangerous? And what was the so-called 'good reason' why they did it? Questions were piling up in Dean's mind by the time Sam reached the door of the garage. In a quick motion, he yanked opened the door and gestured for Dean to go in first. Although he was fighting off anxiousness, Dean forced himself to step inside the darkened building, secretly bracing for anything that might be inside.

Bobby was the first person that Dean saw. The old man was perched on a stool next to a work bench with his arms crossed and his worn hat tilted far back. There was a single lamp hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room and it was shining down onto a freshly painted devil's trap on the concrete floor. And standing in the center of this newly sketched trap, was a demon. Not just any demon, but the same demon that had wreaked havoc on the Winchester's lives for years...

“Well, there's Mr. Insemination now,” Crowley purred, narrowing his eyes toward Dean with a pompous smirk, “Tell me, squirrel. How does one acquire semen powerful enough to impregnate an angel? Did you sell a piece of your soul for that heavenly ability? Or were you simply blessed with a magical staff?

Dean's jaw fell open and he blinked hard once before turning his sight toward Bobby and Sam. Both of them shifted around uncomfortably and looked away, obviously refusing to make eye contact with him.

“Told you he'd hate it,” Sam mumbled toward Bobby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure that Cas with a baby on his hip is waaay sexier than Dr. Sexy. Just sayin' ;) Also, I think its only fitting that Dean Winchester's kid hates to fly. (Even though he's half angel.) :) I hope you guys are still staying afloat with all this angst. Thank you so much for reading and commenting! :)


	7. Chapter 7

Dean was at a total loss for words. His sight continued to flicker back and forth between his family and the demon in the middle of the dimly lit garage while panic and anger quickly rose up in his chest. He couldn't believe what had just come out of Crowley's mouth! He couldn't believe that Sam and Bobby had actually told _a demon_ about the pregnancy!

“You _told_ him?!” Dean snapped, feeling his own hands ball into fists at his sides.

“No,” Bobby denied calmly, shaking his head a bit, “He already knew about it.”

A fresh wave of shock washed over Dean, causing his jaw to fall even lower. He instantly spun to face Crowley again, where the demon was grinning back wildly with arrogance. Both of his hands were casually stuffed inside the pockets of his black suit jacket as if he was taking pleasure in watching Dean's reaction. The bastard! How the hell did he know about Cas being pregnant?! _Nobody_ was supposed to know about it! Especially not dick-bag demons like him!

“How the hell did _you_ find out?!” Dean barked, his voice bouncing off the metal walls of the garage.

“It case you haven't noticed, bad news travels fast. Especially when it involves you two denim-wrapped nightmares,” Crowley replied, glancing between Dean and Sam, “Besides, it doesn't matter how I got the information. The point is that I – and many, _many_ others – already know about your little bundle of abomination.”

Rage and protectiveness flashed through Dean like lightening. The hunter took two giant steps closer to the devil's trap to glare directly into Crowley's dark eyes.

“If you ever call my kid an abomination again, I'll drown you in a lake of holy water and bury you under a mountain of rock salt,” he warned in a harsh tone.

Crowley only raised an eyebrow at Dean's threat. Even though the man was being dead serious, the demon didn't seem to take his words to heart.

“Charming,” Crowley sneered flatly, “Just the sort of outrageous threat I would expect from a hunter attempting to transition into fatherhood. At this rate of growing hostility, you'll turn out just like your _own_ father, Dean. Revenge-induced stupor and all.”

The air was stolen from Dean's lungs in an instant. Crowley's icy words had punched him right in the gut. That total son of a bitch! Dean would _never_ be John Winchester! He would _never_ choose revenge over his own kid! He would _never_ abandon his kid in random motel rooms, or make his kid call him 'sir,' or forget his kid's birthday the way John did! Dean would _never_ turn out to be his own father! _Never_!

Dean was already rolling up his sleeves and stomping toward the devil's trap when Sam dashed over to grab him by the arm. Dean was fully prepared to beat the absolute shit out of Crowley for even thinking such a terrible thing, but Sam refused to let him go.

“Whoa, don't do it, Dean,” Sammy said, holding Dean back with all his strength, “He's just trying to get inside your head.”

“ _Why is this asshole even here?!_ ” Dean shouted, still trying to shove his way close enough to deck Crowley in his smirking face.

“Because he knows why the angels are after Cas,” Sam answered.

Dean slowly stopped fighting against his brother's hold and stood still on the outside of the devil's trap. His focus had been shifted from his own unrelenting rage back to what really mattered, which was _Cas_. The thought of his angel sleeping peacefully back in Bobby's study made Dean regain control over his anger. He took a few harsh breaths and straightened out his jacket before carefully bringing his sight back to Crowley. The demon was still grinning like a prick but Dean didn't care. He just wanted to know why the person he loved the most was being attacked by his own kin.

“Tell us,” Dean spat.

“Ah. See, now, there's where you're mistaken,” Crowley purred, “If you morons think I'm just going to _give_ you information out of the goodness of my heart, I've got news for you. I don't have a heart, let alone one that gives freely. So the question then becomes; what are you willing to _pay_ for it?”

Dean could feel the glare working its way back across his own face. See? This is why he hated demons. This is why he never dealt with soulless, heartless cock-roaches from hell. They only wanted to help themselves. Bobby – who had been standing by silently the whole time – eventually wandered closer to the devil's trap. His aged eyes were directed at Crowley from underneath the bill of his hat, holding zero sympathy and even less kindness.

“That's pretty big talk comin' from a rat in a trap,” the old man said lowly, “The way I see it, you've got two options. Either you tell us what we wanna know and we'll set you loose so you can get back to raisin' a lil' hell... Or you can clam up like a school girl on the first date and rot in my backyard until the end of time. I ain't got no qualms with sealin' off this garage and buryin' it like a bad memory.”

Bobby and Crowley held an intense staring contest for a few minutes, both refusing to back down from their threats. But luckily, Crowley was the one who crumbled first. A warm smile suddenly flashed across the demon's face and he seemed to bat his eyelashes at Bobby a few times.

“A school girl? You really think me that innocent, Robert? Come now, you know I look rubbish in a dress...” Crowley cooed, making Bobby's face flare up with heat, “Fine. I'll share my information with you. But I'll warn you now that it isn't very much.”

“Just start talkin',” Bobby grumbled, crossing his arms on his chest.

Crowley took a second to inhale and exhale slowly before glancing along everyone's faces. His sight lingered on Dean's the longest, where he looked the man up and down with apathy.

“The angels don't want Castiel to bear Dean's child,” the demon stated flatly.

“Why not?” Dean asked, feeling his own heart beating hard with mounting anger.

Crowley scoffed loudly at Dean's question as if it was the dumbest question he had ever heard in his many years of being the king of hell.

“Why not?” he repeated, blinking once, “Why don't the angels want _Castiel_ – the seraph who rebelled against them and slaughtered hundreds of his own kin just for the sake of one man – to bear the child of _Dean Winchester_ – the same man who _started_ and _ended_ the apocalypse and happens to be responsible for re-murdering half of purgatory? The two of you on your own are enough to give every living creature nightmares. But _your love child_? The both of you melted together into a _single, unconquerable being_? The very thought is enough to make heaven and hell both quake in fear.”

A warm sensation tickled the pit of Dean's stomach after hearing Crowley's words. Huh. Dean never thought about it that way, but it was true. Cas and Dean's kid would be half angel, half hunter, wouldn't he? The little guy was a product of the two of them; the perfect mix of Cas's grace and Dean's soul blended into one person. Man, that sounded so _awesome_...

“So, they want to kill the baby just because of Dean and Cas's reputations?” Sam uttered quietly, looking stunned.

“I would,” Crowley agreed, giving a slight nod, “But unlike those feather-brained idiots upstairs, I'm smart enough to know when to back off.”

“Good call,” Bobby mumbled.

Dean let his sight wander up to his little brother's stare, where they both looked at each other with equal worry. The angels only wanted to kill the baby based on what he _could_ turn into? They were so scared of what Dean and Cas's kid _might_ grow up to be that they were taking extreme measures to prevent it _now_? That was insane! That was totally unfair! The kid wasn't even born yet! He hadn't even taken his first breath of air yet!

“ _Dicks..._ ” Dean slurred under his breath, feeling lightheaded.

“Who would order something like that?” Sam questioned, looking a little pale.

“According to my men, it's the person in charge up there,” Crowley interjected, regaining everyone's attention, “... Someone who calls himself 'The Scribe of God.'”

Dean, Sam, and Bobby all glanced between each other again, wearing looks of confusion. The scribe of God? Dean had never heard that title before. Who the hell was the scribe of God? And why the hell was he sending all these angels down to take out Cas? Why didn't he just come down and try it his damn self? Didn't he have any balls?

“And that, Robert Singer, is the extent of my knowledge on the subject,” Crowley said, eying Bobby with a smirk, “Now, if you would be so kind as to open this trap, I've got some other business to tend to. Deals to make, souls to take, that sort of thing.”

“Alright, fine. But let's get one thing straight first,” Bobby warned.

The old man tilted his hat up to reveal more of his face to Crowley. He stood at the edge of the devil's trap and narrowed his eyes at the demon in the center, wearing a look of bold authority. It was the same look of emotionless disdain that drill Sargents gave to soldiers – the same look that John Winchester always wore when he spoke to Dean...

“If I ever find out that you're conspirin' with those pigeons up there and you're plannin' to hurt any single one of my boys,” Bobby said, his voice low and serious, “I'll hunt you down myself. And then you'll be wishin' for another apocalypse before I even get started on you.”

The grin on Crowley's face only widened with twisted pleasure.

“Oh, Robert. Behave. Anymore talk like that and you'll have me dripping on the floor like a wet mop,” the demon smirked, batting his eyelashes again, “Besides, you've got nothing to worry about. I don't work with pigeons. Not since I learned my lesson the first time.”

Crowley's sight flickered toward Dean and Dean realized that he was talking about Cas. The man narrowed his own sight toward Crowley, trying to back up Bobby's defense. Bobby took a few extra seconds to glare at the demon – probably to let his words sink in and show who was really in charge – before slowly bringing his foot forward to rub out part of the devil's trap. Crowley kept his eyes on Bobby the whole time, drinking in the view of the old man setting him free as if it was his favorite sight in the world.

Once the trap was broken, Crowley took a single step closer to Bobby. His hand suddenly jutted up and both Winchesters instantly reached toward their waistbands, ready to retrieve the nearest weapon just in case Crowley was gonna try something stupid. But to Dean's bewilderment, Crowley only reached up to straighten Bobby's hat. The demon tugged the faded blue cap toward the left and gave the bill a tiny flick before winking.

“Until we meet again, old friend,” Crowley purred.

A cloud of black smoke briefly filled the garage and the demon was gone. Bobby and the Winchesters were left to glance around at each other and think about everything they just learned. Dean was astounded by the fact that the angels wanted to kill his child just because of _him_ ; because of his and Cas's history. So what, Dean and Cas had killed a few angels? Angels killed each other all the time! Did they really think that Dean and Cas's kid would _kill them all_ or something? Hell, they were technically blood relatives to the kid! Those were his aunts and uncles and cousins, for crying out loud!

“So... Anybody know who the scribe of God is?” Bobby mumbled, his face still red from Crowley's flirty comments.

“Gabe might,” Sam mentioned, sounding hopeful.

Dean nodded a little before moving toward the door. He was determined to find out who this dipshit 'scribe' was and why he had ordered a hit out on Cas and the baby. Sam and Bobby were directly at Dean's back when the man led the way back into Bobby's house. They reentered through the back door and strode through the kitchen to get back to the study. Cas's sleeping form came into view as soon as Dean walked in and a wave of relief swept through him.

The dark haired angel was still snoozing quietly on the couch bed with his arms tossed behind his head and his round stomach rising and falling with each slow breath. Dean blinked at Cas's glowing belly, feeling tons of emotions swirling in his heart. His _baby_ was in there. The same child that Crowley said had the power to make heaven and hell both quake in fear – he was still just a little fetus. He couldn't hurt anybody. And he _wouldn't_ hurt anybody; not as long as he had Cas's gentle spirit. Their kid would probably turn out to be a beekeeper, or a gardener, or a park ranger. Not a murderous monster like Dean...

Gabriel stood up from the desk when the guys came in. He instantly glanced between the three of them as he sneaked over to talk in a hushed voice.

“So? What did the old vampire bat have to say?” the archangel asked, seeming eager.

“Gabe, do you know who the scribe of God is?” Sam asked.

The look of nausea and aggravation that came over Gabriel's face made Dean cringe on the inside. That uncomfortable reaction alone was enough to let Dean know that it was going to be bad news.

“Ugh. That wankstain? He's a total prick,” Gabriel mumbled, shaking his head, “His name is Metatron. Dad chose him to write down everything he said one day and his ego hasn't stopped growing since. Why?”

“Because Crowley said he's the one who ordered the attack on Cas and the baby. He wants them both dead,” Sam replied softly.

Hearing Sam phrase it like that gave Dean chills. The word 'death' should never apply to Cas or his unborn son. Wanting to get away from the terrible feeling in his gut, Dean wandered over to the couch bed and gently sat down next to his angel. He leaned over to wrap his arms around Cas's stomach too, tucking both hands under Cas's soft back and carefully laying his head down on Cas's big stomach. Dean's ear was pressed against the tight warm skin – and he could almost hear a heartbeat. It might have been Cas's and it might have been his son's. But either way, Dean adored the sound. And he couldn't believe that anyone could be evil enough to want that precious sound to stop...

“Dean,” Sam whispered.

Dean raised his head at the sensation of his brother's huge hand in his shoulder. Sammy was staring down at him with meaningful eyes, as if he understood what Dean was feeling.

“We're not gonna let anything happen to them,” Sam promised, sounding determined.

Dean forced down a hard gulp as he stared at the genuine passion in his little brother's eyes. It wasn't every day that _Sam_ consoled _Dean_. Usually, it was the other way around. Dean was always the one telling his little brother that it was going to be okay; that he was gonna stop the bad guys and keep Sam safe no matter what. Because that was his job. But now, Dean's job had grown to include his brother, his angel, _and_ his son. And Sam was openly accepting it by offering to help Dean keep them safe. In that moment, Dean had never felt prouder of Sammy in his whole life... Not wanting to get too emotional, Dean just patted Sam's arm in agreement and looked away, trying to hide the moisture that was growing in his eyes.

“Damn right,” he mumbled in the manliest voice he could muster.

* * *

Even after everyone had gone to bed and the clock was ticking closer and closer to midnight, Dean still couldn't make himself fall asleep. Cas was still snoozing next to him, shifting lazily every so often and breathing in and out gently. Dean watched the angel sleep for the longest time, hoping it would make himself feel tired. But sleep never came. His mind was too busy worrying about everything else to relax. Over and over, all he could think about was Cas and the baby. What if those angels actually got to his family? What if that Meta-asshole succeeded? What if he _killed_ them? What would Dean do if he lost his own _son_? What would he do if he ever lost _Cas_?

Eventually, Dean got sick of laying around and thinking about horrible things, so he carefully gave Cas another kiss and climbed out of bed to made his way to the bathroom. He figured that he might as well take a shower since he hadn't had one in a few days. Plus, the hot water might help wash away all the terrible thoughts of losing Cas. Ugh, those thoughts sucked... When he got to the bathroom, Dean went about turning the hot water on and undressing before stepping inside the steaming stall. He washed his hair first and then the rest of his body, trying really hard to focus on his actions rather than his own thoughts. But it wasn't helping.

Now, Dean was suddenly thinking about what _Crowley_ said; about Dean turning into a carbon copy of his own father. Oh, God, what if Crowley was right? What if Dean somehow managed to turn out just like John Winchester? What if he let his own anger get the best of him and he started barking orders at his son unintentionally? What if his son grew up to hate him rather than love him? Ugh, that would be the worst! No, Dean wanted to _love_ his kid. He wanted to push him on the swing set, and let him eat pie for breakfast, and tickle him until he broke out into a fit of giggles. Dean didn't want to bitch at his kid about keeping the car clean, or threaten his life when something went wrong, or leave bruises on his skin. John did that shit to Dean all the time – especially behind closed doors – and Dean would be damned if let himself do it to his own kid...

After rinsing his body, Dean turned off the water and slowly moseyed out of the shower. He dried himself with a towel and wrapped it around his waist before stepping up in front of the sink. His own weary reflection looked back at him in the mirror and he grimaced at it. Shit, he was even starting to _look_ like John; wrinkles around the eyes and all. The sight made Dean want to puke.

From the corner of his eye, Dean saw the bathroom door crack open.

The man instantly spun to look toward the doorway and briefly caught sight of Cas's big blue eyes. It seemed like the angel had popped his head in just to see what Dean was doing before he ducked back out again. Dean was kind of surprised. When did Cas wake up? And how long had he been standing there?

“Cas?” Dean asked.

After a moment of hesitation, Cas reappeared in the doorway. He was leaning up against the door frame and glancing up at Dean nervously, acting like a little kid that wanted to ask for something that he shouldn't have. His glowing stomach was still sticking out from the open buttons of his shirt too, lighting up the space in the hallway outside.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas mumbled, his blue eyes flickering from Dean's face to the floor.

Dean could tell that Cas wanted to say something. The angel's fingers were kind of plucking at the door frame and he was acting all bashful, swaying back and forth between the hallway and the bathroom. Why was he doing that? Was this some type of weird pregnancy behavior?

“What is it, Cas?” Dean asked, wanting to cut to the chase.

Cas exhaled a little and looked away before clearing his throat. His eyes eventually wandered back to glance up and down Dean's body when he started to actually speak.

“I... I want to make love to you,” the angel whispered, acting like it was a sin, “but... I fear that intercourse may injure our child.”

Dean gulped, feeling his own cheeks fill up with heat. Oh. No wonder Cas was acting all weird. He wasn't nervous. He was _horny_. Just the thought of sex was enough to get Dean's blood flowing. He could feel it already heading toward his own crotch the longer he stared at the heated lust oozing out of Cas's eyes. But Cas _did_ have a point. What if sex hurt the baby? What if Dean's dick ended up poking him over and over? That was just wrong...

“Ah,” Dean breathed, suddenly understanding Cas's hesitation, “Well... the, um... the baby is surrounded by grace up here, in your stomach,” the man pointed out, gesturing toward the large glowing bump, “And all the real action would be back there, near your ass... So, uh... m – maybe if we're really gentle -”

“Yes, gentle,” Cas agreed, nodding eagerly.

“It won't hurt him,” Dean concluded, hoping he was right, “But, if it does, then we'll stop.”

Cas's head was still rocking back and forth while his eyes did circles around Dean's face and torso. Oh, man, he looked so damn _horny_. His mouth was hanging open, his hands wouldn't stop touching things, and he was already starting to roll his hips a little bit.

“Y – yes,” the angel breathed, grabbing Dean's hand and stumbling out of the bathroom, “Please, Dean. Let's try.”

Dean didn't have to be asked twice. The man left the bathroom in excitement, scurrying along with his angel's tight grip. Cas led the way back into the study where their unkempt bed was still in the middle of the dark room. As soon as they reentered the study, Dean instantly dashed over to the kitchen doorway to pull the heavy sliding doors shut. He did the same thing to the hallway door too, as well as shut the blinds on the window. He didn't want any of the other guys to stumble in and see him drilling a pregnant angel. Ugh, Gabriel would never let them live it down...

As soon as they had complete privacy, Dean spun around to face his glowing angel – before reaching down to drop his towel. The damp fabric gathered into a heap at his feet and left him standing completely naked in front of Cas. And Cas was visibly turned on by the sight. Geez, the guy was acting like he had never seen Dean naked before or something. As soon as Cas's eyes fell to Dean's body, his mouth dropped further open, his face turned red, and his hands clutched fistfuls of his own clothes. Dean's cock was already pumping to life between his legs just from seeing the lust on Cas's face. Shit, Cas wanted to have sex _so bad_. And Dean wanted to give it to him just as badly.

With two giant strides, Dean stepped forward to capture Cas's mouth with his own. A tiny moan hummed from the back of the angel's throat as Dean started to quickly take off all of Cas's clothes. He started with the tie and moved to Cas's white shirt, where he only had to undo a few more buttons. Once Cas was topless, Dean's hands slid down to take the angel's pants off – but he had to maneuver around Cas's large stomach to do it.

Dean had to admit that it was weird trying to work around Cas's round belly. It wasn't that a large stomach made Cas look ugly or anything; in fact, Dean thought that Cas looked even more beautiful with his skin all glowing in the dark. It was just weird for Dean to see Cas's exposed bump because he knew that _his kid_ was in there. Sex was supposed to be for adults, not children. And yeah, Dean knew that his baby didn't really know what was going on outside of the womb. But the thought of his unborn son being involved in a sexual experience still kind of put Dean off.

Cas, on the other hand, was acting like he forgot that he was even pregnant. Once he was naked, he thrust himself into Dean's arms, forcing the man to tumble down onto the bed behind them. Cas's hands were all over Dean's body too, rubbing his bare chest, scratching up his back, grabbing handfuls of his ass, touching his face. Dean had to race just to keep up with the guy. Their tongues were moving in and out of each others' mouths and their hips were both trying to rock together. God, Cas's dick was already stiff and throbbing and it made Dean's own cock ache in approval. Shit, he wanted to get inside Cas so bad. He just needed access to the angel's ass first.

“Roll over, baby,” Dean panted in a whisper.

Another whimper squeaked from Cas's lips as he instantly rolled toward the desk. Dean reached out to stop him once he was on his side. He figured that Cas shouldn't lay on his stomach while the baby was in there. So, instead, Dean snuggled up to Cas's back while they were on their sides; like spooning. Dean lubed up some of his own fingers with spit before reaching down to slide them between Cas's ass cheeks. The angel let out a tiny moan and rocked his hips back, obviously enjoying the sensation. Dean had to wiggle his fingers for a while before he could actually get them in. Geez, the angel was so tight on the inside. There was barely enough room for two fingers. How the hell was Dean's dick supposed to fit in there?

“Please, Dean,” Cas begged, reaching a hand behind him to touch Dean's face, “I... I want it...”

“I know you want it, baby. Just hold on,” Dean breathed.

Dean wanted to make sure he could fit inside Cas without hurting him before actually trying it. He pecked the angel's neck and shoulder with kisses while he continued to prod the tight hole open, wanting to keep Cas satisfied until he could work his way in. Once he thought that Cas seemed loose enough, Dean carefully guided his cock toward the entrance. He had to add a few more globs of spit and give it a good push, but his dick eventually fit inside, causing Cas to cry out in the meantime.

“ _Ah! Yes_ ,” the angel panted, reaching back to hold onto Dean's hip.

The sound sent Dean's heart racing. Son of a bitch, Cas was _so damn tight_ on the inside. Dean figured that Cas's body must have been pushing all his other organs out of the way to make room for the baby or something because he felt so full. Dean carefully started rocking in and out of Cas's hole, going slow just in case the baby could feel it. He didn't want to accidentally hurt the kid somehow. Cas tilted his shoulders back as far as he could to hook an arm around Dean's neck and tug him into another kiss. Dean hummed and catered to the angel's mouth as his hips started moving a little faster.

“Shit, Cas,” the man panted into the angel's open mouth, “Y – you're so _tight_.”

Damn, this wasn't going to take Dean very long at all. The heat and the friction of sliding into Cas's soft ass over and over – and the sight of Cas's glowing mouth moaning with every thrust – was enough to get Dean to the edge. The man suctioned his mouth back to the angel's as he picked up speed, clinging to Cas's hip bone with one hand and hugging him close with the other. Oh shit, Dean could feel an orgasm swelling up in his balls already. Just a few more thrusts and his gun would be firing.

But as his ecstasy drew nearer, Dean's eyes caught sight of Cas's glowing stomach again. Oh, he had forgotten about the baby. He couldn't come inside Cas if the baby was in there, could he? What if Dean's semen got in there and blinded the poor kid or something? Or worse – What if it somehow got Cas pregnant _again_?

Knowing that he didn't have much time, Dean quickly made the decision to pull out. He only gave one more thrust into Cas's ass before removing his dick and reaching down to grab it. The thing instantly starting squirting, pulsing white fluid all over Cas's bare back and ass. Dean was moaning loudly the whole time, letting his eyes roll back while pleasure coursed through his entire system. Damn, there was _nothing_ better than clinging to Cas's body during an orgasm. It left Dean shaking with euphoria and emotion every time...

When he finally regained enough awareness to look around, Dean realized that Cas was rocking back against him. The angel was whimpering quietly and tugging on Dean's hip, obviously wanting to come. Dean instantly reached around to grab Cas's hard cock with his wet hand and stroke him. Cas groaned out at the sensation, trying to thrust his hips as best as he could with his abnormally large stomach. Dean licked and sucked at Cas's earlobe too, trying to give the angel as much pleasure as possible.

“D – Dean,” Cas moaned, his voice pitching higher, “ _Ah! F – faster! Yes!_ ”

Dean felt the angel's cock pulsing a moment later. Cas doused his side of the bed with pure white come while quivering in Dean's arms. Dean made sure to keep stroking him until he started twitching with sensitivity. After his orgasm, Cas's moans slowly died down, carefully reducing to subtle whimpers. Dean felt so proud to give Cas amazing orgasms. Especially when the angel was desperate to have them...

For a while after they were done, Dean and Cas just laid quietly on the bed in the dim light of the angel's glow. Dean lazily kissed the back of Cas's neck while he slowly ran his hands up and down the angel's sides and back. He loved touching and kissing Cas after having sex. Holding him was always great because he was so warm and he smelled so good. Cas, however, was gently cradling his stomach, holding it with both hands and softly stroking it with his thumbs. Dean smiled a little, watching over Cas's shoulder.

“How's he doing?” Dean asked quietly, nestling his head into the crook of Cas's neck.

Cas looked down at his stomach with wonder.

“He is enjoying the rush of dopamine and oxytocin,” the angel replied quietly.

Dean's smile widened. Huh. He didn't know that it was possible for babies to feel orgasms while they were in the womb. But maybe they could. Maybe their son was feeling just as relaxed as they were now. Dean snaked his hand around the angel's waist to slide it next to Cas's. They were both holding his stomach then, feeling the baby move ever so slightly under their palms. God, it was so awesome that the little guy could move already. And he was getting so _big_.

“I love you, Dean.”

Dean instantly brought his attention to Cas's face after hearing his low voice. The angel was staring up at him from the mattress with those giant blue eyes – the same eyes their child wore in the dream he had a few nights ago...

“I love _you_ , Cas,” Dean replied, feeling a thump trying to form in his throat, “... and I love our kid, too. Even though he doesn't know it yet.”

A smile played on the edge of Cas's lips.

“He does know, Dean,” Cas confirmed, sounding sure, “and he loves you in return. He always becomes excited when you are near.”

Dean gulped, feeling like he had the wind knocked out of him. His kid already loved him back? His kid actually got _excited_ when he came near? Already? Even though they had never even met before? That... that was so _awesome_. Cas must have seen the look of total awe on Dean's face because he leaned up to peck his lips with a small kiss. Afterward, the angel twisted around to lay flat on his back, giving Dean a full view of his glowing stomach.

“Will you sing to us, Dean?” Cas asked quietly, caressing Dean's face with his soft fingers, “Please?”

Dean tried to cough away the lump in his throat before easing closer to Cas on the bed. Usually, Dean only sang in the Impala while the radio was cranked up loud because he hated the sound of his own voice. But now – even though the room was absolutely silent – Dean was actually more than happy to sing. Because he wanted to give his son whatever he wanted, even if it was just the sound of his voice...

Dean carefully leaned over to rest his head on top of Cas's flat chest just over his beating heart and looked down at the shining bump before his eyes. He gently placed his hand on top of Cas's tight stomach too, before taking a deep breath.

“ _And anytime you feel the pain... Hey Jude, refrain..._ ” Dean sang, feeling his baby move against his palm, “ _Don't carry the world upon your shoulders..._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that not everyone ships Crobby... But I just can't help myself guys. I had to throw some Crobby flirting in there. Because, let's face it, Crowley is a tease and Bobby knows it. ;) What do you guys think of that wankstain, Metatron, being behind all of this? Scary, right? Don't worry too much, though. I'd never let that douche-bag hurt our boys. ;) I actually looked up 'sex during pregnancy' and it turns out that babies can feel the chemical effects of orgasms! Isn't that awesome?! :D That sex scene you just read is probably the closest thing to a threesome I'll ever write. (Unless you count when Dickie watches Sam and Gabe do it. But that's debatable, I guess. Lol.) :)


	8. Chapter 8

Although he tried his best to ignore the pain, Castiel's slumber was interrupted by a growing ache near the base of his spine. The muscles and skin around his vessel's torso were being stretched to their fullest extent, causing him major discomfort. Usually, Castiel never felt inconvenient sensations such as muscle aches. His grace had always remained separate from his vessel; unaware of the pain it endured while he occupied it. But now that most of his grace was being used to contain his ever-growing child, Castiel could feel the full intensity of his body's physical suffering.

The angel carefully rolled over on the bed to face Dean beside him, hoping that changing his position would dull the pain in his spine. But it did not help. Soreness continued to throb from the small of his back, echoing around to the front of his torso. Unable to remain asleep, Castiel exhaled and blinked his eyes open. His glowing body was nearly the only source of light in Bobby's study, save the tiny sliver of daylight peeking from between the closed curtains of the window. Dean was resting peacefully on his back next to Castiel and they were both still naked from the passionate intercourse they had shared only hours before.

Now that Castiel was fully conscious, he could feel other sensations beginning to creep into his awareness. One of his legs was tingling, most likely from regaining steady blood flow now that his full weight was off of it. And through the sharing of his grace, Castiel could also feel his son's distress as well. By this stage in the pregnancy, the baby was roughly the size of a grapefruit and was already beginning to perform basic motor functions such as blinking, yawning, and swallowing. And now, as Castiel lay on his side like an exhausted farm animal, Jude was moving impatiently inside his grace, rotating himself in a complete circle and fidgeting in annoyance. He was obviously in need of nourishment and physically demanding to be fed. And Castiel couldn't help but think of how much his actions resembled that of his father. Jude definitely belonged to Dean. There was no denying it...

Strangely, the longer Castiel felt his child's hunger grow, the more he himself became hungry. Eating food suddenly seemed like such a wonderful idea. The thought of a warm burger dripping with grease, bubbled with melting cheese, and topped with crunchy pickles caused saliva to instantly pool in the angel's mouth. Oh, he desperately wanted to eat that delicious man-made specimen of heaven on a bun... But his back was aching ferociously. Castiel reached around to rub the tender area near his spine, feeling the dried remnants of Dean's semen painted across his skin. How could the angel journey to the kitchen without causing himself more pain? Although he didn't want to disturb Dean's peaceful slumber, Castiel hesitantly reached out to shake the man awake.

“Dean,” he whispered.

Dean's lovely emerald eyes blinked open as he shifted lazily on the bed. Once he caught sight of Castiel, a smile played on his lips and he snuggled closer to the angel underneath their shared blanket.

“'Mornin' baby,” he slurred, glancing down at the angel's glowing stomach between them, “...and baby.”

“Dean, will you assist me?” Castiel asked, feeling secretly embarrassed, “I – I need to get to the kitchen.”

Dean blinked hard once before raising up to rest on his elbow. He rubbed both of his eyes to look at Castiel more properly, seeming worried.

“What's wrong, Cas?” he asked, sounding wide awake.

The angel tried to gulp down his humility as he stared back into Dean's concerned eyes. Castiel was born a warrior; one of heaven's most astute and noble soldiers. He had fought in countless battles and slaughtered many foes without even blinking an eye. But now, in his humble state of pregnancy, Castiel required assistance to venture ten simple feet into the next room. He could feel his own pride quickly diminishing the longer he laid in silence...

“My... my back hurts,” the angel forced himself to admit, feeling ashamed.

Castiel expected Dean to scoff at his 'human' distress or ask him why he couldn't just heal himself. But – to the angel's great surprise and awe – Dean didn't say a word. He simply nodded and rose from the bed to retrieve their clothing from the floor. The man took the time to step into his own pants and underwear and toss on a t-shirt before striding back to the bed to hold out a free hand to Castiel.

“Come here. I'll help you,” he offered, his voice free of any judgment.

A swirling of strong emotions filled Castiel's heart to the brim and he could feel tears pressing at the back of his eyes. Dean _truly cared_ for Castiel. Not because the angel was a powerful soldier that possessed useful abilities but because he genuinely loved him. Of course, some part of Castiel always knew that fact, but to _see it in action_ was simply touching...

Not wanting his emotions to get the best of him, Castiel quickly cleared his throat and scooted toward the edge of the bed. Jolts and aches radiated from the angel's back with every motion, causing him to wince in discomfort. Once he was close enough, Castiel took Dean's hand and allowed the man to help him to his feet. Standing in the upright position caused the skin over Cas's stomach to tighten and the baby clearly disliked the lack of room. Thankfully, Dean knelt down to hold open Castiel's pants, which helped the angel get dressed more quickly in an effort to appease their child's distress. Dean also slipped the white dress shirt onto Cas and fastened a single button above his protruding stomach.

Once they were both dressed, Dean dashed over to slide open the study doors, revealing Bobby's vacant kitchen. The morning sun was cascading in brightly from the windows, making the room appear extra inviting. Dean guided Castiel to the nearest kitchen chair and sat him down before retrieving a couple of pillows from their bed. He carefully stuffed the soft pillows behind the angel's back, giving his spine some added comfort. The man also pulled up another vacant chair in front of Cas to prop the angel's feet up, removing the pressure of gravity from his already-swollen ankles. Castiel watched Dean do all of this with a radiant smile on his face, feeling as though he were floating on a cloud. Dean was such a loving caretaker and his nurturing nature only made Castiel adore him more and more.

“It's no wonder your back hurts, man. Looks like you swallowed a whole basketball,” Dean smirked as he stood up to look around, “So. What do you want for breakfast, Cas? Eggs? Bacon? Oatmeal?”

“I would like a juicy hamburger with melted cheese and extra crunchy pickles on a soft bun, with a slice of warm cherry pie on the side, along with a tablespoon of honey and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice to wash it all down,” Castiel stated flatly.

Dean's face fell a bit after hearing the angel's request. It seemed as though he wasn't expecting Castiel to have such a specific list of items. But before either of them had time to amend their words, the sound of a snap echoed from the hallway – and everything Castiel requested suddenly appeared on the table beside them. The angel looked down at the steaming plate of food in wonder before glancing toward the sound of the snap. Gabriel was leaning into the kitchen from the hall, wearing a joyous grin.

“Good morning, lil' bro,” the archangel winked, before turning toward the hallway and shouting, “Hey, Sammy-boy! They're awake!”

The sound of Sam's large footsteps stumbled rapidly down the hall and the younger Winchester entered the kitchen with a smile on his face. He and Gabriel both seemed overly happy, as if they were excited to see that Dean and Castiel were awake. Sam's enthusiastic eyes remained fixed on them while he quickly dashed over to the backdoor to pull it open.

“Hey, Bobby! They're up!” he shouted outside.

As Sam and Gabriel glanced between them with hidden excitement, Dean and Castiel shared a look of equal confusion. Why were their brothers acting so bizarre? Had they been waiting for Dean and Cas to wake up all morning? What was so important?

Although Castiel was thoroughly intrigued by everyone's behavior, he was also very hungry. While they all waited on Bobby to come into the kitchen, the angel reached over and began to prepare his food. He didn't exactly have any utensils to eat with, so Castiel decided he would eat it all at once. He removed the top bun from his burger and carefully placed the slice of cherry pie directly on top of the meat before drizzling the tablespoon of honey over all of the contents. The angel replaced the top bun and picked up the newly designed sandwich to take a bite... when he noticed that Dean's eyes were on him. The man was staring at Castiel with an open mouth and large eyes, seeming infatuated beyond words.

“What?” Castiel asked, wondering why Dean appeared so amazed.

“I love you so much right now,” he uttered, glancing briefly at the angel's pie-honey-sandwich.

Castiel could feel a blush appearing on his own cheeks. Perhaps Dean was proud of his choice of food. Or, rather, _their son's_ choice of food...

“I love you too, Dean,” Cas replied before taking his first bite.

The angel's stomach – and the baby inside it – jolted with delight as Castiel chewed and swallowed the delicious food. The sweet and savory blend of cherry filling and cooked hamburger created a glorious melody of flavor for his taste buds to enjoy. Castiel continued to eagerly consume his pie-honey-sandwich when Bobby Singer walked into the kitchen from outside. He didn't run in like Sam did, but there was still a fair amount of enthusiasm hidden beneath his stoic facial features. The old man wandered over to prop himself against the counter and glance between Dean and Castiel. In fact, he, Sam, and Gabriel were _all_ glancing between Dean and Castiel, appearing equally excited.

“Alright, you guys are starting to freak me out,” Dean mentioned, crossing his arms, “What's going on?”

Sam shared a glance of private amusement with Gabriel before stepping forward.

“Well, uh, last night, after you guys went to bed,” he began carefully, trying to find the right words, “Gabe, Bobby, and I sort of, um... Well, we sneaked out and, uh... went to the store, and -”

“ _Happy baby shower_!” Gabriel interrupted.

As soon as the archangel sang the words, blue balloons, streamers, and decorations suddenly filled the kitchen. Dozens of gifts appeared on the tiled floor, all neatly wrapped and strategically placed. Dean and Castiel both flinched at the unexpected celebration, equally surprised by the staggering amount of gifts and embellishments. There were presents of many shapes and sizes among the pile of blue wrapping paper; so many that Castiel could hardly count them all. The angel stole a brief glance at Dean beside him and could see that the man was just as stunned by the impromptu party that appeared out of thin air. His wide green eyes lifted to catch his younger brother's stare, where he blinked with confusion.

“Happy what?” Dean breathed, sounding shocked.

“Baby shower,” Gabriel repeated, placing a pointy paper hat on his own head, “It's a party where people shower your unborn baby with gifts. Not to be confused with an _actual_ baby shower, where fetuses start raining from the sky...”

“I didn't suggest it,” Bobby spoke up to add, obviously not wanting to take credit, “but I did get the lil' guy a few things.”

Castiel smiled a bit as he nibbled on his burger and looked back at the floor full of gifts. All of those presents were for their unborn child? They were all for _Jude_? And Bobby, Sam, and Gabriel had purchased all of them? That was the nicest gesture Castiel could imagine... Dean seemed to feel just as touched as Cas did. The two of them shared another look of understanding and the angel could see the underlying pride in the man's powerful stare. Their son wasn't even born yet and he was already receiving gifts from people that loved him...

Sam reached down and picked up one of the many wrapped boxes before stepping toward his brother. He held the gift out to Dean as a smirk lit up his face.

“Open this one first,” he suggested with a wink, “It's from me.”

* * *

For almost half an hour, Dean and Cas opened presents for their kid. Dean did most of the unwrapping while Cas stacked everything on top of the kitchen table. So far, their baby had received plenty of things he really needed. Bobby bought him a bassinet, seven boxes of diapers, and three cans of formula; the good kind of formula, not that organic crap. Sammy got him a high chair, a stroller, and a play pin; the portable kind, that could easily be broken down, stowed away, and moved. And Gabriel got the baby pacifiers and tons of baby clothes, plus a few of those funny onesies, including some that read ' _I'd flex but I like this onesie_ ,' and ' _Daddy's little squirt_ ' with a picture of a cartoon sperm on it. Dean rolled his eyes at that last one. He would never make his kid actually wear that, but he had to admit it was kinda cute.

Now, there were only a few more gifts left to open. Gabriel's dog was romping happily in the massive sea of ripped paper on the floor and Dean tried his best to shove it all out of the way so that Sam could hand him the next present. This one was pretty big but not very heavy.

“That one's from me,” Gabriel grinned, sounding proud, “I picked them all out myself.”

Dean stole a glance at Cas behind him to make sure he was watching with those gorgeous blue eyes before ripping off the paper. He opened the unmarked brown box to find several baby bottles. There were at least fifteen of them stacked inside the box – but every single one of them was ruined. The rubber nipples on the tops had been completely chewed off and covered in tiny bite marks. Dean's eyebrows drew together as he picked up one of the plastic bottles and held it up for everyone to see.

“Uh. Thanks?” Dean mumbled, shooting Gabriel a glare.

The archangel gasped dramatically in shock – before spinning around to glare at the dog playing in the trash.

“Dammit Dickie! I told you to leave those nipples alone!” Gabriel scolded, “You can't play with those kinds of nipples! They're for the baby!”

The dog only gave a single bark and wagged his tail before prancing away happily. It was pretty obvious that Dickie had sabotaged Gabriel's gift on purpose because the dog wasn't showing any remorse. Maybe it was payback for that whole 'diaper' thing Gabriel did to the poor dog a few days ago... Either way, Gabriel rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers, repairing all the bottles with his grace. Dean glanced at the bottle in his hand and shook his head with a smirk before putting it back in the box.

“Yeah, anyway,” Sam moved on, grabbing the second-to-last present and holding it out to Dean, “This one's from Bobby.”

Dean gladly took the gift and began to open it, tossing Bobby a glance in the meantime. The old man was watching pridefully with a soft smile burrowed beneath his beard as Dean lifted the gift out of the wrapping paper. At first, Dean thought it was a duffel bag with dark military-style camouflage print and a super long shoulder strap. But then, after he turned it around and opened the top flap, Dean realized that it was a diaper bag; a really _awesome_ diaper bag that had multiple compartments for bottles, diapers, wipes, and clothes. It was the manliest diaper bag that Dean had ever laid eyes on. And the best part was that the name ' _Winchester_ ' was embroidered on the front in white cursive...

“I was gonna have 'em put his full name,” Bobby mentioned, “but I didn't know which name you boys decided to give him.”

“His name is Jude,” Cas said instantly.

Dean turned around to give his angel an exhausted look. Seriously? Cas _still_ wanted to call their kid Jude? But they hadn't even discussed any other names yet. Didn't Cas want to explore other options?

“Uh, are you sure, Cas? I mean, there are a million other names out there that you might like,” Dean carefully suggested, not wanting to make him upset.

“Yeah,” Gabriel agreed, “I thought we were gonna name him 'Sam,' after his kick-ass uncle.”

“They can't give him my name, Gabe. It would be too confusing,” Sam denied, “But what about 'John,' after dad?”

A flicker of discomfort lit up Dean's insides at the thought of naming his kid after his own father and Gabriel scoffed loudly at the notion.

“Ugh. 'John' is too mainstream. If we're gonna name the kid after someone's dad, than it should be mine and Cas's,” the archangel smirked.

“God? Seriously?” Sam replied, his voice and face flat, “Gimme a break, Gabe.”

“Well, what else are we gonna call him? Bartholomew? Geraldo? _Nancy_?” Gabriel retorted.

“Okay, that's enough,” Dean interrupted, wanting the arguing to stop, “We'll figure it out later, alright? Just pass me that last present.”

Luckily, Sam and Gabriel stopped trying to offer baby names long enough to finish up the gifts. A genuine smile returned to Sammy's face as he reached over to push the last present toward Dean. It was a large box with a big blue bow on top and Sam seemed pretty excited for Dean to open it.

“This one is from me,” he admitted.

Dean didn't waste any time tearing the wrapping paper from the box. He spun the large box around on the floor to see the picture on the front and found that it contained a child's car seat. In the picture, all of the car seat's plastic pieces were black and the fabric on the inside was made of soft tan material. And it only took a single glance for Dean to recognize that they were the exact same colors of the Impala's interior. Sam was glancing back and forth between the picture and Dean's face, enjoying his stunned reaction.

“The cool thing about this seat is that it adjusts as the baby grows,” Sam pointed out, gesturing to the label on the box, “So, you won't have to buy another one. And I picked these colors because they match the -”

“Impala,” Dean finished, feeling a lump trying to form in his throat.

Sam nodded and grinned and Dean could feel moisture swelling up in his eyes. The two of them had grown up in the Impala. They never had an actual house, so their car was basically _their home_. Sam never had a desk to do his homework on. He always did it on top of the dashboard of the Impala. Dean never had a bedroom where he could relax and listen to music. He always used the Impala's radio and the backseat. The Winchester brothers never had a backyard fort, where they could scratch their names into the wooden planks. They just carved their initials into the trunk of the Impala. Dean and Sam never had the privilege of living in a house with bedrooms, bathrooms, or a warm kitchen...

… and neither would Dean's son.

As he blinked down at the box in his hand, Dean suddenly felt nauseous. Oh, God. His son wasn't going to have a home. Dean didn't have a house for his child to grow up in. He couldn't even offer his kid an actual bed, let alone an entire house. How was his child going to have a normal life if he didn't have a house to live in? What if he had to grow up on the road like Dean did? What if the poor kid had to go through the same struggles that Dean had to go through? What if he got picked on by other kids for living in random motels? What if he grew up resenting Dean for making him live like a gypsy? What if he _hated_ him for it?

' _Then you'll be just like your old man,_ ' John Winchester's voice echoed from the back of his mind.

“I need some air,” Dean blurted.

He shoved the car seat box out of his lap and quickly climbed to his feet before darting for the backdoor. Dean briefly caught sight of everyone's confused faces as he blurred passed them, but his feet wouldn't stop moving. His fight-or-flight sense had suddenly kicked in and he needed to get the hell out of there. He needed a second to be alone and breathe; to talk himself down and get rid of his father's patronizing voice. The man shoved his way outside and stumbled into Bobby's salvage yard, where he wandered off toward a random stack of cars.

Dean wasn't even paying attention to where he was going. He was just _going_ ; trying to shake off his sudden fear and worry. Dean wanted to give his kid everything. He wanted to give him a big house with a huge backyard and a tire swing. He wanted to give him a bedroom, and a playroom, and his own little space away from the rest of the world. But he couldn't! Dean didn't have the means to do any of that! He didn't even have enough time to _try_! Ugh, this was happening _too fast_! A week ago, Dean's biggest concern was what to get Cas for Valentine's day. Now, he was worrying about _where to put his child's crib_! Dean wasn't cut out for this! He wasn't ready to be a father! He would just end up ruining it like he ruined everything else!

“Dean.”

Dean was in the middle of pacing and panting when he heard Bobby's deep voice. The old man had apparently followed him outside and was now standing in front of him with a couple of cold beers. Dean gulped hard as he watched Bobby hold one of the brown bottles toward him.

“Here. This oughta help,” he said quietly.

Although he was a little surprised by Bobby's indifference to his current meltdown, Dean took the bottle and snapped the cap off. The two of them were silent for a moment while they both drank, gulping down the cool fermented liquid at an equally generous pace. Afterward, Dean lowered the bottle and took a long, deep, soothing breath. Man, alcohol always _did_ help get rid of his father's voice. Dean carefully glanced up at Bobby, feeling kind of embarrassed about fleeing the kitchen. But looking at the old man actually gave Dean some comfort. Maybe Bobby would understand what he was going through...

“I can't do this, Bobby,” Dean admitted, feeling defeated, “I can't be a dad.”

“Ah, that's a load of crap and we both know it. You can be anything you wanna be, Dean,” Bobby smirked, “But I can understand where you're comin' from. Hell, I've been there before.”

Dean's eyes grew wide. Oh, yeah. Bobby _had_ been here before. Karen was pregnant right before she died. Although he knew the topic might be a bit touchy for Bobby, Dean really wanted to ask for advice about being a father-to-be.

“What did you do?” he asked quietly, hoping the question wasn't too personal.

“I did the same thing you're doin' now,” he admitted, nodding toward Dean's jittery composure, “I freaked out and perched myself at the local bar for a few days... Y'know, the funny thing is, after I found out that Karen was pregnant, the only thing I could think about was the back of my daddy's hand. The way his hard knuckles used to hit my cheekbone when he smacked me. I always hated that feelin', and I didn't want any other kid to go through it. Especially my own. I guess I wasn't so scared of bein' a dad as much as I was for that lil' baby having _me_ for a daddy...”

All the blood in Dean's face slowly drained away, leaving him pale and stunned. He felt like he was hearing his own thoughts being read out loud. It was amazing how much he and Bobby had in common...

“But y'know, life has a weird way of workin' things out,” Bobby went on, letting his smile slowly return, “I don't mean to brag or nothin', but I've done my fair share of changin' diapers, dryin' tears, and beatin' up boogeymen. I think I've earned the title of 'dad' by now.”

Dean gulped. How could Bobby say that? He never got the chance to be a dad. Karen and his unborn child both died years ago...

“But... They died,” Dean quietly reminded, not wanting to bring it up.

A twinge of emotion flashed briefly on the old man's face before he nodded.

“Yeah, that's true,” he agreed, “... But I _did_ adopt a couple of bone-head Winchesters. And they both turned out alright.”

Dean smiled a little. He couldn't deny that Bobby was right. The old man did basically adopt him and Sam and helped them grow up to be pretty good hunters. But Dean still couldn't shake off his internal fear. He wanted his child to have the best things in life, starting with a proper bedroom. How was he supposed to give his kid a home if he didn't have an actual house?

“I don't have a house,” Dean breathed, hearing his own voice crack, “He won't have a _home_ , Bobby. I can't give my own kid a home...”

Bobby shook his head and huffed a breath before jutting forward to grab Dean by the wrist. The old man raised Dean's hand high in the air, holding up his arm to point at it.

“You see these arms, kid?” Bobby asked, his gray eyes wide and full of wisdom, “This is all the home he's ever gonna need. He doesn't need four walls and a roof to make him happy. He needs _you_. And _Cas_. He needs _his family_ and that's it. The rest will work itself out.”

A single hot tear rolled down the side of Dean's face as he stared powerfully at the old man in front of him. Damn. Bobby was _right_. Dean and Sam never needed a house because they always had _each other_. And as long as the baby had his family, then maybe he wouldn't need a house either. Feeling full of admiration, Dean tugged his hand free from Bobby's grasp so that he could wrap both arms around him. Dean hugged him as tight as he could, feeling more tears swelling up in his own eyes. He wished that he could explain to Bobby how much he appreciated him and how much he loved him without sounding all emotional. But there were really only two words that he could put together.

“Thank you,” Dean breathed, patting Bobby's back.

“You're always welcome,” Bobby replied.

“Dean?”

At the unexpected sound of Cas's voice, Dean instantly let go of Bobby and turned away to wipe his eyes. He didn't want the angel to see that he had been crying or cause the poor guy to worry about him.

“Uh, y – yeah, Cas?” Dean said, turning back around to see him.

The pregnant angel was carefully making his way outside from Bobby's backdoor. Poor Cas was basically waddling instead of walking because his glowing stomach was so huge. He was carrying some kind of fabric in one hand and bracing his back with the other, grimacing with every step. Ugh, Dean hated to see him in pain. Why was Cas up and walking around if it caused him pain? Bobby carefully started edging toward the house, seeming casual.

“Well, I'd better go in here and make sure blondie cleans up that wrappin' paper,” Bobby mentioned, shooting Dean a quick wink, “See you boys inside.”

The old man rounded Cas and went back in the house and poor Cas was still trying his best to waddle closer. Dean dashed over to clear the distance between them so that Cas wouldn't have to walk any further.

“Baby, what are you doing up? You need to stay off your feet,” Dean said, placing a hand on top of the warm baby bump.

“I came to make sure you were okay, Dean,” the angel replied, wincing again, “and Gabriel wanted me to show you this.”

Cas took a second to find better balance before unfolding the fabric and holding it up for Dean to see. It was another tiny onesie, except this one had an iconic picture of The Beatles on the front. It was the album cover from Abbey Road; the one of all four guys walking across the street at the same time. Dean smiled at the picture of his mother's favorite band and could feel a new smile working its way across his own face. Ah, hell. That was the cutest thing he had seen all day...

“Gabriel says that there are beetles on this shirt,” Cas mentioned, looking confused, “but I believe he is mistaken, because I don't see any.”

A small chuckle fell out of Dean's mouth. Oh, man. Cas's innocence could be so damn _adorable_ sometimes. Dean reached out to take the angel's soft face in both hands before lowering his mouth to kiss Cas's open lips. The familiar flavor and tender sensation of Cas's mouth moving against his own caused tingles to race up and down Dean's spine. Kissing Cas always made Dean feel better, no matter what he was going through.

“I love you, Cas,” he pulled back to whisper.

“I – I love you too, Dean,” the angel replied, still seeming kind of lost.

Staring into Cas's blue eyes somehow reminded Dean of his conversation with Bobby and how much it meant to hear the old man's wisdom. Man, Bobby really deserved some credit for being such a good dad. And maybe Dean could do it by passing on the old man's name to his son...

“Cas, what do you think of the name 'Robert'?” Dean mentioned as he caressed Cas's warm cheek.

The angel took a moment to think about Dean's question, letting his blue eyes wander away for a second.

“I think it would be a lovely middle name for Jude,” Cas replied, blinking back up at Dean with honesty.

Another chuckle escaped Dean's mouth as he shook his head a bit. Man, Cas really had his heart set on the name 'Jude,' didn't he? Dean glanced back down at the onesie in Cas's hand, where The Beatles were still in mid-step across Abbey Road...

“Jude Robert Winchester,” Dean mumbled, feeling his smile grow.

“Yes,” Cas nodded, looking pleased, “That sounds like a perfect name to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked the tiny baby shower. :) You know the part where Dean was making Cas extra comfortable by stuffing pillows behind his back and propping his feet up? Well, that was actually inspired by my mom and dad. See, my dad always used to do stuff like that for my mom all the time; bring her things and make her comfortable without being asked. And even when I was little, I would think, _'Huh. He must really love her._ ' :) I know that doesn't have anything to do with Destiel, but I thought I would share. :) Thank you so much for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

“Jude Robert Winchester, huh?” Sam repeated, giving a nod, “That sounds pretty good.”

“Yeah. Until every kid in his kindergarten class starts calling him 'Judy,' and then he'll be stuck with a girl's name forever,” Gabriel mumbled.

“If anyone ever calls my son 'Judy,' I'll hunt them down and beat their ass,” Dean retorted, sounding stern.

“You can't hurt little kids, Dean,” Sam sighed.

“Then I'll just teach _my kid_ how to kick asses and he can do it for himself,” Dean replied.

Castiel smiled as he glanced around the study at his family. Everyone was present in the small room; Cas and Dean on the bed, Sam sitting at the desk chair, Gabriel leaning against the desk, Dickie snuggling with his moose near the fireplace, Bobby in the kitchen nearby... They were all discussing Jude's full name as the sunlight slowly dimmed in the windows. And although he was burdened with a back ache, swollen ankles, and a small tingle of heartburn, Castiel felt totally peaceful. He adored moments such as these in which he could simply sit and listen to his loved ones talk around him, especially when the conversation was based on his unborn child.

The blue-eyed angel took the time to look down at his stomach and watch the large bump rise and fall with his every breath. Just beyond the glowing skin, the baby seemed to be sleeping. Castiel could feel that Jude's eyes were closed and his limbs were still as amniotic fluid slowly shifted in and out of his tiny lungs. Perhaps the subtle sound of light conversation was just as comforting to him as it was to Castiel.

“Okay, let's start up another bet,” Gabriel announced with a grin, “Who here thinks that the lil' tike's first words will be 'son of a bitch'?”

The archangel's suggestion received a glare from Dean.

“Statistically speaking, his first word will probably be 'daddy' because he has two,” Sam predicted, glancing between Dean and Cas.

“Wait. So, he's gonna call you both 'daddy'?” Gabriel asked, “That'll be pretty confusing for him. I say we should call Cas 'daddy' and call Dean 'mommy'. You know, just to make it easier on Junior.”

“Keep it up and you'll be 'dead uncle Gabe,'” Dean warned playfully.

Bobby wandered into the study holding his flask and came to rest against one of his bookcases. The old man took a small sip before eying Dean and Castiel.

“One of you could be 'papa',” he suggested quietly.

Dean turned his head to look at Castiel and the angel could see an underlying tone of flirtation in the man's eyes.

“Papa Cas,” Dean smirked, nodding a bit, “I like it. What do you think, Papa?”

Castiel could feel a sudden jolt in his lower region. Hearing Dean refer to him as 'papa' was oddly arousing...

“I like it too, Dean,” Castiel mumbled quietly, feeling heat rise in his own cheeks.

“Ew, _please_ don't start that,” Gabriel interrupted, looking repulsed, “For the sake of everyone's sanity, I'm begging you _not_ to make it sexual.”

Dean only chuckled at Gabriel's request, seeming amused. Castiel, however, felt slightly ashamed. Gabriel was right. Perhaps that particular term of endearment was not meant to be used in a sexual way. Especially if their son was destined to call him by it...

“So, uh, when do you think the baby will be ready to come out, Cas?”

Castiel raised his head at the sound of Sam's question. A strange wave of discomfort briefly flickered through him and his eyes instantly darted toward Gabriel. The two angels shared a look of hidden apprehension and Castiel knew that his brother was thinking of the same thing. The end of Castiel's pregnancy would lead to a dangerous delivery and possibly even the end of Cas's life. Although the sudden remembrance of those facts caused him discomfort, Castiel remained calm. He did not want Dean to see the fear in his eyes. He did not want Dean to worry...

“Soon,” Castiel breathed honestly, reaching up to place his hand on top of his own stomach.

“How soon? Like, a few more days?” Sam asked, appearing curious.

Castiel took the time to internally assess his offspring's development. Jude had grown drastically throughout the day, gaining a few more inches of length and a few extra ounces of weight. He was even beginning to grow hair on his head and practice breathing on his own. His brainwaves were more rapid and comprehensive, his central nervous system had fully matured, and he was so large that he barely had enough room to move inside Cas's grace. In fact, Jude was practically using _all_ of Castiel's grace, leaving the angel to feel more human than he ever had before...

In all honesty, the baby was finished developing. He only required a little more time inside the womb to gain a proper weight. One more day, at the most. After that, he would need to be removed before his heart rate decreased. Otherwise, he might parish within Cas's vessel and Castiel had no intention of ever letting that happen... The longer silence stretched on in the study, the more Castiel could see fear rising in Gabriel's golden eyes. It was clear that the archangel was dreading the answer, but the words had to be stated.

“Less than thirty hours,” the angel uttered, hearing the shock in his own voice.

Dean and Sam both shared a look of surprise, eyebrows raising and mouths falling open. Gabriel visibly gulped and briefly closed his eyes, seeming unnerved by the news. And Castiel could feel his own heart filling with emotion. Thirty hours. That may have been all the time Cas had left to spend with his family...

“Are you serious?” Dean said, sitting up straight and leaning forward to look at Castiel more properly, “He's gonna be here in _thirty hours_?”

Castiel stared into Dean's beautiful eyes for a moment – just to soak in the lovely emerald hue and memorize the perfect color – before giving a nod. Yes. Dean and Castiel would be fathers to a handsome baby boy in just a single day.

“Uh, shouldn't we get you to a hospital, then?” Sam asked, standing up from the desk.

“We can't take him to a hospital, Sam. He's a pregnant _man_ with a _glowing_ stomach,” Dean denied, seeming to ponder the situation for a moment, “... That means we're gonna have to deliver the baby ourselves somehow. Maybe we should get some old sheets and -”

“ _No_ ,” Castiel gasped.

The angel nearly leaped up to grab Dean by the arm, unintentionally causing the baby to stir to life inside his grace. Dean's eyes widened at Castiel's sudden outburst and he stared back at him with concern. Castiel could not let Dean do this. He couldn't let Dean be the one to cut him open, especially if something went wrong. Dean would never be able to live with himself if he had to bear the weight of Castiel's death.

“You – you cannot deliver him, Dean,” the angel denied, trying to come up with a sound reason that wouldn't alarm him, “Because... Gabriel is the only one who can do it.”

Dean glanced back and forth between the angels, seeming offended and unconvinced.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I'm older than you, okay?” Gabriel said snidely, raising up from the desk, “I've got seniority. And I've seen far more babies being brought into this world than you have. Plus, there's gonna be a lot of grace shining in the room when Junior is born and you fragile humans really shouldn't be looking directly into the light, if you know what I'm saying.”

“Are you trying to tell me that I can't be in the same room while my own kid is being born?” Dean spat, his voice dropping into a defensive tone.

“Not if you don't want to go blind,” Gabriel replied, “Besides, I can't afford any distractions. I need all the concentration I can get if you want it done right.”

The seriousness in Gabriel's tone seemed to be noticed by the whole room. The men were all staring at the archangel with surprise but Castiel was gazing at him with abundant gratitude. Gabriel did not bring up the fact that Castiel's life may be in danger and the angel was very thankful. The last thing they needed to do was cause a panic, especially this late in the pregnancy. From the corner of his eye, Castiel could see Dean's mouth opening as if the man was about to speak -

But his unspoken words were cut off by the sound of Bobby's backdoor being kicked open.

Everyone in the study turned to look toward the kitchen at the sudden _boom_ and were greeted with the sight of a figure stomping up to the doorway. It was an angel; another one of heaven's assassins, armed with an angel blade. His unexpected arrival rendered everyone too stunned to move. As soon as the new angel caught sight of Castiel sitting on the bed he raised his head and opened his mouth to speak.

“He's here!”

When the words fled the angel's mouth, four more assassins appeared at his sides, all armed with weapons directed at Castiel. For a single second, the Winchesters were all frozen in shock, bewildered by the sheer amount of bloodthirsty angels inside Bobby's house. But then, when the angels began to converge on the study, everyone flashed into action. Sam jumped up from the desk and Bobby tossed away his flask, both racing over to combat the angels. Meanwhile, Dean threw himself on top of Castiel, shielding him from the oncoming blades.

Castiel could hear things breaking and voices grunting inside the room, but the only thing he could see was Dean's pale face. Everything was happening in such a fast blur that Cas's humanistic senses could barely comprehend it. He scarcely had enough time to grab onto Dean's shirt before the man was yanked away from him. Three angels had forcefully removed Dean from Castiel and were about to raise their blades to smite the pregnant angel.

“ _Cas!_ ” Dean shouted, his voice cracking with fear, “ _Go!_ ”

In a panic-induced spur of action, Castiel did what he was told. He used his lessened amount of grace to fly away. He didn't choose a specific location to journey to. Castiel simply went as far as he could go with the last of his grace, which wasn't very far. The angel made a sudden crash landing near a cornfield on the outskirts of a town just two counties away from Bobby's residence. Cas fell flat on his back and slid up against a wooden fence post where he blinked his eyes open to look up at the evening sky.

When he regained his sense of awareness, the first thing Castiel could feel was nausea. Using what little strength he had left, Cas rolled himself over just in time to vomit on the ground. He was on his hands and knees, shaking and trembling as he regurgitated violently on the side of a dirt road. Inside his grace, Jude was trying his best to move in the confined space, physically stating his own distress. Cas cradled his large stomach with a quivering hand, trying his best to get the sickness to subside for both their sakes.

Once his stomach was settled and his vertigo had worn off, Castiel fell back to sit against the fence post. His immediate concern was his family, battling angels back in Bobby's study. Were they unharmed? Did the angels leave when Castiel disappeared? Were they all still alive? Was _Dean_ still alive? Castiel knew that he needed to pray to Gabriel. He wished that he could communicate with him without putting his own voice on the angel radar, but there was no other way. Cas needed to let his family know where he was so that they could all be reunited.

“Gabriel,” Castiel breathed in prayer, knowing his brother would hear him, “I am here.”

For a few long and stressful moments, nothing happened. Castiel was alone on the side of a dirt road, holding his own stomach while his heart filled with impatient worry. But then, just as Cas was about to pray again, Sam suddenly stumbled out of thin air. He appeared a few feet in front of Castiel, clutching a broken lamp with one hand and shielding his face with the other. Sam carefully lowered his arms and blinked around, seeming confused as to why he had suddenly appeared in a different place. But Castiel knew that Gabriel had flown him here to get him away from the fight and place him at Cas's side. The moment Sam's eyes fell upon the pregnant angel, he instantly dropped the broken lamp and jogged closer.

“Cas! Are you alright?” he asked, dropping to his knees next to the angel, “Did you get hurt?”

“Is Dean okay?” Cas interrupted, grabbing Sam by the arm, “Where is Dean?”

As if Gabriel had heard Castiel's question, Dean suddenly appeared next to him. The man was laying on the ground with a gun in his hand, clutching his own side. He, too, was briefly befuddled by his change of surroundings, but quickly realized that he was pointing a gun at his own family and dropped the weapon. Castiel instantly scanned the man's body to make sure he was unharmed – and found red liquid oozing from between his fingers on his side.

“Dean,” Sam gasped, jumping up to race to his brother's aid, “What happened?”

“I'm fine,” Dean denied in a gruff tone, shoving Sam's hand away.

Dean desperately scooted closer to Castiel on the ground, letting his green eyes roam quickly over the angel's glowing body. Although he was clearly injured and bleeding, Dean was more concerned about Castiel's well-being than he was for his own.

“Cas! You're _shaking_ ,” he exclaimed in a hoarse tone, reaching up to touch the angel's stomach, “Are you okay?! Is the baby okay?! Did you get hurt?!”

“We are fine, Dean,” Castiel answered.

The angel reached over to plucked Dean's hand from his side and revealed a large puncture in Dean's skin. It appeared to be a stab wound from an angel blade pierced near his lower ribcage. Wanting Dean to be in complete health, Castiel raised his hand over Dean's injury in an effort to heal him – but he couldn't do it. Cas's grace was no longer strong enough to be used while it contained their child. And the realization that he could not heal Dean caused the angel to internally panic. He had _always_ healed Dean! Healing Dean was Castiel's sole mission in life! And now, he couldn't even heal a minor flesh wound for him!

In the midst of being distraught, Castiel caught sight of Bobby appearing on the dirt road in front of them. The old man's clothing was speckled with red fluid and he was holding a small bloody knife in his hand. He seemed to be physically unharmed, but mentally shaken up. Bobby lowered his arm and wandered closer to the group where he glanced among everyone's faces with shock. Sam rose to his feet and grabbed Bobby by the arm as he looked around frantically.

“Where's Gabe?” he asked breathlessly, before glancing toward the sky, “Gabe?!”

Castiel, too, glanced around with fright. Where was Gabriel? Was he still back in Bobby's study with those angels? Why didn't he fly to Cas's location immediately after bringing everyone else? A few seconds of worry and panic went by before Gabriel finally flew to them. The archangel appeared a few feet behind Bobby on the dirt road. He was clutching an angel blade in one hand and both he and his weapon were covered in blood.

Castiel swallowed harshly when he saw the look of horror in his brother's golden eyes. Judging by the sheer amount of blood spatter on the archangel's clothing and the look of stunned remorse on his pained face, Castiel realized that Gabriel had stayed behind on purpose to take care of the assassins. He most likely killed them all in order to save his family, even though he clearly did not want to. Gabriel's golden eyes flickered downward to the bloody angel blade in his hand before he cast the weapon away, discarding it with revulsion as if it were riddled with disease.

“Gabe,” Sam breathed.

In three giant strides, Sam sprinted close enough to wrap his large arms around Gabriel, hugging the archangel tightly to give him comfort and display his own relief. Castiel was happy to see Gabriel's small arms carefully raise up to wrap around the back of Sam's torso. Cas sincerely hoped that embracing Sam would be effective in helping Gabriel overcome the guilt he felt about having to murder his own kin. Sam also stroked Gabriel's blonde hair and whispered something that sounded like, ' _It'll be okay_ ,' to which Gabriel's arms tightened around him. In the meantime, Bobby hobbled over to brace a hand on the fence post behind Castiel and Dean with weariness.

“Balls,” the old man mumbled, shaking his head, “They found my house.”

“Which means we can't stay there anymore,” Dean added, still clutching his side, “ _Dammit_. What are we gonna do now?”

“We need a safe house. And we need it fast. Otherwise, Cas'll be havin' that baby in the middle of nowhere,” Bobby replied.

Castiel felt Dean's hand tighten against his pregnant stomach. Dean was still more focused on Cas and the baby than he was on his own injury, even though bright red liquid was still oozing from between his fingers. Castiel wished that he could heal him, to end his blood loss at least. And it bothered the angel greatly to know that he was unable to perform a task that was so simple when he possessed his full grace.

“Yeah, but we can't go to just any safe house. We need one that will keep us off the freakin' grid or those damn angels are going to keep finding us,” Dean spat.

“Well, we can't just turn invisible,” Bobby sighed, “I'm sure that ol' demon bastard Crowley knows a trick or two that'll keep angels away. Maybe we could just find a house and have him put a spell around it or somethin'.”

Nearby, Sam carefully turned around to face everyone else, gently tugging Gabriel along in his arms. The archangel still had his face buried into the cavity of Sam's chest and his arms tight around Sam's torso, clinging to the tall man as if he was a precious life raft in the middle of a raging sea. And even though he was still physically consoling Gabriel, Sam's eyes were full of acute attention and directed at the three men in front of him.

“Actually, I've been thinking about that. There's something we could do our own,” Sam said quietly, “I know that angels can't go inside a place that is warded against them, which means Cas and Gabe couldn't go inside either... But what if we built angel wards _around_ them?”

Castiel could feel his own eyes widening with surprise. Sam's idea actually seemed brilliant. Being contained inside a warded place would keep them safe from outside celestial forces and give Gabriel the concentration he required to deliver the baby. Cas briefly glanced toward Dean beside him and saw an equal amount of hopefulness in his pale features. Even Gabriel lifted his head to look up at Sam, seeming to finally come out of his guilt-ridden stupor.

“Are you sure that'll work?” Bobby asked.

“I don't see why it wouldn't,” Sam answered, “I mean, if we decide to stay at a house – like say, Rufus's cabin – then Cas and Gabe could stay inside while Dean and I paint the wards on the outside. The house itself would only be warded from the outside, which means Cas and Gabe would be free to leave if they want.”

“But we would not be allowed to reenter,” Castiel pointed out.

“You wouldn't need to leave though, Cas,” Dean said, placing his hand on the angel's shoulder, “At least, not until after the baby's born. And we'll make sure we've got everything we need beforehand so that we can hide out for as long as possible.”

“That sounds like a good plan for the immediate future,” Bobby stated, “But unless you can track this angel thing to the source and nip it in the bud, those attacks are gonna keep comin' even after the baby is born. Ya'll got a plan for that yet?”

An uncomfortable silence rested amongst everyone as Bobby's question was left hanging in the air. The elder hunter had a fair point. Unless they stopped whoever was in charge of sending the assassins to kill them, Castiel and Jude would always remain in danger. Castiel cringed at the thought of his small child being the victim of a premeditated attack. He would never allow his infant son to become a target of such reckless violence, especially at an extremely young age.

“No. We don't,” Dean huffed truthfully.

“Then I'll get a jump on it for you,” Bobby volunteered, standing up straight to dust off his hands, “Hey, blondie, are there anymore angels in my house?”

Castiel watched as his angelic brother slowly turned around inside Sam's arms. His face was extremely pale and his amber eyes were slightly vacant, holding almost no emotion.

“No,” Gabriel said breathlessly, his voice flat, “They're all dead.”

Sam affectionately raked his fingers through the archangel's soft hair while Bobby gave a slight nod.

“Alright. Here's what I suggest,” the old man began, stepping up to the middle of the group, “You guys get Cas to Rufus's cabin and ward the shit out of it. Make sure he and Gabe are gonna be safe for at least the next two days. In the meantime, I'll go home and start makin' some calls. We've gotta find a way to end this, one way or another. Even if we have to go up there and ram the pearly gates down ourselves.”

“Gabe and I will go with you to get the Impala and all the baby stuff,” Sam offered, before glancing down at the archangel in his arms, “Right, Gabe?”

Although it took him another moment to gather himself, Gabriel eventually forced a nod and began to maneuver out of Sam's large arms.

“Yeah, okay,” he mumbled.

“Wait,” Castiel breathed.

Gabriel stopped abruptly to look down at his own brother. Watching the archangel prepare to leave had reminded Castiel of Dean's injury and his own insufficient grace. Even though he felt that he had already asked too much of Gabriel, Castiel knew that his brother's healing grace was the only way to restore Dean's full health. The blue-eyed angel gestured to Dean's open wound as he stared up at Gabriel with apologetic humbleness.

“Please heal him,” Castiel nearly begged, feeling ashamed, “I cannot do it.”

Although Gabriel had every right to refuse Castiel's request, he did not hesitate to crouch down and snap his fingers together. Dean's side was healed in an instant, blood gone and body repaired. Castiel was relieved to see his favorite human in good health but he was _even more_ relieved to see life return to his brother's expression. With emotion stirring in his heart, Castiel reached out to gently clutch Gabriel's shoulder. He wanted to express his profound gratitude for everything that Gabriel had done for him and everything he was planning to do for him in the future.

“Th – thank you, brother,” Castiel said quietly, feeling moisture swelling in his eyes, “Words cannot express how much I appreciate -”

“Oh, don't go all 'Lifetime' on me, Cassie,” Gabriel interrupted, finally allowing his smile to return, “I'm your big brother. That's what I'm here for... You know, besides banging the moose.”

Gabriel briefly gestured to Sam behind him and the tall man smiled brightly. The archangel reached out to gently ruffle Castiel's dark hair before raising back to his feet. He then ventured over to stand near Bobby while Sam reached down to pick up the discarded angel blade from the ground. He walked it over to hand the weapon to Dean, giving him a look of assurance.

“We'll be back in a few minutes with the Impala,” he promised, “Then we can head to Rufus's cabin.”

“Make it quick, Sammy. I don't want Cas to stay out in the open much longer,” Dean replied.

The Winchester brothers shared a look of understanding before Gabriel reached out to grab Sam and Bobby by their arms. All three of them vanished, leaving Dean and Castiel to sit alone near the cornfield. The two of them eventually looked at one another, each still attempting to assess the well-being of the other. But no words were spoken between them. After all, what could be said? They had just been attacked for the third time in one week and were simply grateful to be alive together.

The wide sky overhead was shining with orange sunset, casting a warm glow on Dean's lovely features. The man's hand carefully slid down to rest over Castiel's large stomach as he stared down at it with an indescribable look. Even after everything that just happened, their baby was at peace inside Cas's grace. In fact, Jude was so relaxed that he had drifted back to sleep while suckling on his own fingers, blissfully unaware of the chaos and panic that lay just outside the womb. Castiel placed his own hand next to Dean's, feeling strangely comforted. At least their child was immune to the current hardships they were facing.

In a swift motion, Dean suddenly reached up to tilt Castiel's chin toward him before leaning close to capture the angel's mouth. Cas could practically taste the urgency in their new kiss. Dean's tongue and lips were moving so quickly and tenderly against Castile's, almost quivering with desperation. And Castiel wholeheartedly sympathized with the man's behavior. This intimate moment was a gift; a precious blessing of time spent together that could have been stolen from them in the blink of an eye. Both of their lives could have ended only moments few earlier and now they were embracing each other with unrestrained passion.

“I love you, Cas,” Dean almost panted, his voice full of intense honesty.

“I love you too, Dean,” Castiel replied instantly.

After stating their affections, the two of them settled into each others' arms. The only thing they could do now was wait for their brothers to arrive with the Impala and protect their unborn child at all costs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got good news and I've got and bad news. The good news is: Jude is going to be born very soon! Yay! :D The bad news is: the real angst is gonna start at the end of the next chapter. Eep! :( (Sorry for all the angst.) I don't know where its coming from, but I promise more fluff is still to come. Lol. :) It really feels like I'm putting a lot of pressure on Gabriel in this fic and it makes me feel bad. (I'm so sorry, Gabe.) But he's got Sam Winchester to keep him company. So, it's not all bad for him, right? ;)


	10. Chapter 10

Dean tried his best to focus on his own brushstrokes as he glanced between the open book in his hand and the side of Rufus's cabin. He was trying to make sure he got the designs right by copying them straight from Bobby's encyclopedia of sigils. The last thing he wanted was for those dick-bag angels to pop up inside the cabin just because he didn't get the wards right...

For hours, Dean and Sam had been circling the whole house and painting angel wards on all of the outer surfaces, including the roof. It was already close to midnight and Dean could barely see what he was doing in the dark. On the inside of the cabin, Cas and Gabriel were both waiting patiently for the Winchesters to finish. Dean could actually see the two angels through the front window he was now painting on. Both of them were sitting in the living room; Gabe on the couch and Cas in a wooden rocking chair. The only source of light in the whole house was a small lit lamp on the coffee table. Well, the lamp and Cas's shining stomach...

Dean's brush slowed to a stop on the window as he gazed at Cas's massive glowing belly for the hundredth time that day. Shit. Cas was _so pregnant_. It looked like the poor guy was about to pop at any second. Through the window, Dean could see that Cas was clinging to the arms of the rocking chair and forcing himself to take long breaths, acting like he was on the verge of throwing up or panicking or passing out. Everything in Dean's body wanted to go inside and comfort Cas, to calm the angel down and offer him the support he needed. But Dean couldn't do it until he finished warding the cabin...

“All done.”

Dean gasped and nearly leaped into the air at the sound of his brother's voice. Sam had wandered up while Dean was deep in thought and accidentally scared the holy hell out of him. Dean quickly reset his attention back on painting the sigils as he flashed his little brother a weary glance.

“Did you make sure to get the back porch?” Dean mumbled.

“Yeah. And the cellar doors, too. Just in case,” Sam confirmed.

Dean gave a nod to acknowledge his brother's words but kept his sight on his own work. He knew that once this last window was covered, the whole house would be completely protected against other angels. Dean glared at the red paint as he worked, feeling bitter. It was a crying shame that he and Cas had to ward an entire house just so their child could come into the world safely.

“You okay?” Sam asked.

The older brother huffed a sigh as he dipped his brush again. He knew that Sammy's question was one of concern and even though he didn't want to answer it, Dean forced himself to reply.

“My kid is going to be born soon,” Dean breathed, feeling terrible, “He's just a little baby. And we have to build a freakin' fortress of angel wards around him just to keep him safe... See, Sam? This is the reason why hunters should never have kids. Hell, look at _us_. We were raised in this shit and now we're both screwed up. Bobby had it right the first time. We _are_ the poster boys for bad fortune. But _my kid_ is gonna have it even _worse_ than us, Sam. Because he's not even here yet and people already want him _dead_.”

The paintbrush broke in half inside Dean's clinched fist and the wet part fell to the ground, splattering the grass with red paint. Dean blinked down at it in the dark for a second, feeling his own heart racing with anger. Dammit. Just thinking about his child's uncertain future made Dean want to hulk-out. Sam casually bent down and picked up the broken paintbrush before using it to keep painting. He picked up on the sigil right where Dean left off, finishing it for him without being asked.

“I know it seems unfair,” Sammy mumbled, connecting the lines on the window, “and I know this whole angel thing sucks... But you're kind of missing the big picture, Dean.”

“Big picture?” the older brother repeated.

“Yeah. I mean, you're going to have _a baby_ , man,” Sam said, turning to give Dean a smile, “There's going to be a new person in your life. Hell, he's gonna be in _all of our lives_. You, me, Cas, Gabe, Bobby – we're _all_ going to love him. And we get to teach him how to walk and talk, and spoil him with things we never had. We can buy him presents on Christmas, and throw him birthday parties, and let him watch fireworks on the Fourth of July. Can you imagine the look on your little kid's face when he sees fireworks for the first time, Dean?”

Dean gulped, feeling a sudden rush of emotions. He instantly recalled the face of the little boy from his dream; the same precious face that looked at Cas from the back of the Impala. Only now, Dean was picturing that little face all lit up with excitement, staring up with wide blue eyes and a tickled grin while colors of light burst and sparkled across the sky...

“That does sound really nice,” Dean admitted, feeling his own smile carefully slipping away the longer he stared at the red paint on the house, “... But he's gonna have to learn how to handle a gun. He needs to know how to defend himself from demons and angels and all those other creatures, Sam. He's still going to have to be a _hunter_ whether he likes it or not. We didn't get a choice... and neither will he.”

Sam took a breath as he painted on the last bit of the angel warding sigil. With one more brushstroke, the whole house was completely sealed, every inch covered in invisible protection. After he was done, Sam dropped the broken brush into the can of paint in Dean's hand and looked up to give his brother a soft smile.

“You're right. None of us chose to be hunters. And you _will_ have to teach your son how to handle a gun... But you get to teach him how to _ride a bike_ , too,” Sam smirked, raising his hand up to clutch Dean's shoulder with a firm grip, “Dean, it's _okay_ to feel excited about having a kid. You don't have to worry so much. He's protected, now. He's gonna be just fine. You can look forward to meeting your own son without feeling guilty. Because, you know what? I'm pretty sure he's looking forward to meeting you, too.”

Dean stared into his little brothers honest eyes and could feel his own smile returning. Ah, hell. Sam was right, wasn't he? Cas did say that the baby got excited whenever he came around. Even though there was a smile on Dean's lips, his eyes were starting to get all watery. Somewhere, deep down – underneath all the guilt and self-loathing he had been piling up for days – Dean really _was_ excited about having a kid. Especially with _Cas_. The one person he cherished the most...

Not wanting his brother to see him cry, Dean coughed away the awkward silence and closed the book in his hand with a hard snap. He hastily started off for the front door, gesturing for Sam to follow.

“Come on,” he mumbled, discretely drying his eyes, “Let's get in here.”

Dean held the door open for his little brother and followed him inside before turning around to firmly close the door behind them, making sure the protective seal was complete again on the outside. Sam instantly made a b-line for the couch, where he sat down next to Gabriel and started chatting quietly. Dean was on his way over to speak to Cas when he got distracted by the huge mound of baby stuff on the living room table.

It looked like everything from the baby shower was there, fresh out of the boxes and ready to be used. But there were two new things added to the massive pile that immediately caught Dean's eye. They were both placed near the front as if they had been recently added. Cas's jar of honey and the little stuffed bee. Dean glanced between the table and the angel across the room with confusion. Cas had been carrying those two things around in his pockets for days, acting like they were a source of comfort for him. Why did he suddenly decide to put them on the table with the rest of the baby stuff? Why didn't he want to carry them anymore?

Craving answers, Dean casually swiped the jar and the stuffed bee from the table and finished the trek across the room. The blue-eyed angel was still rocking back and forth in the wooden chair and staring blankly toward the fireplace. The guy was so lost in thought that he didn't even see Dean walk up to him. The man carefully knelt down next to the rocking chair and placed his hand on Cas's knee, pausing the angel's movement.

“Hey,” Dean said quietly.

Cas blinked toward him in surprise. Once he saw Dean, Cas seemed to relax a little bit, finally letting go of the arms of the chair to clutch his own stomach instead.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas mumbled, “Are the wards complete?”

“Yeah. The cabin is covered, top to bottom. I'm pretty sure we're safe,” Dean replied.

Cas nodded as his eyes drifted down to his huge belly. Dean looked down at the angel's glowing stomach too, and remembered all those nice things that Sam talked about. Christmases, birthdays, the Fourth of July – Dean couldn't wait to see his son experience them all for the first time. But even though he was feeling pretty good, Dean noticed that Cas wasn't smiling at all. On the contrary, the angel looked scared to death. Dean gave Cas's knee a tiny squeeze to regain his attention.

“Is everything okay, Cas? You're as white as a sheet,” he pointed out, gently caressing his knee, “Tell me what's wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong, Dean. I'm fine,” Cas denied flatly.

Dean huffed in annoyance. He had been around Cas long enough to know when the angel was deflecting the truth with half-ass lies. And right now, Cas was putting up his wall, refusing to tell Dean what was really bugging him. Instead of pressuring Cas to give him a straight answer, though, Dean simply held up the jar and the stuffed bee and raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Why did you put this with the baby's stuff?” he asked, “I thought you liked carrying them around.”

“I do,” Cas said, obviously not wanting to look up, “But... I placed them amongst Jude's things so that you would be able to find them. In case...”

Cas's voice trailed off and Dean barely caught the last few words of his sentence. In case? In case what? Did Cas think that his things were going to get lost or broken during labor or something? Dean noticed in the dim light of the room that Cas's eyes were starting to glisten with tears. Why was he crying? Was he really _that_ worried about giving birth? Dean quickly inched closer to the rocking chair to console his angel.

“Shh. Baby, don't cry,” Dean pleaded, hating to see Cas in pain, “I'm pretty sure giving birth won't be that bad. Gabriel is gonna do a great job with the delivery. And you can still hold onto this stuff until the baby gets here, if you want.”

Dean held out both items for Cas to take, but the angel hesitated. His glistening blue eyes finally raised up to look at the jar of honey and the sadness only magnified on his face. He slowly picked up the jar from Dean's hand and held it close while he wiped away his own tears. Dean wished that he could say something that would help Cas feel better, but he didn't know what to say. Because he wasn't sure what was making Cas so upset. A few seconds of silence went by – in which Cas stared powerfully at the honeycomb inside the jar – before he looked back at the man in front of him.

“Dean,” Cas breathed, swallowing harshly, “There is something you need to know...”

“What?” Dean asked, feeling worry creep into his chest.

Cas's eyes were flickering between the jar of honey and Dean's face and his mouth opened to speak – but he was interrupted by a loud scratching sound. Everyone in the living room turned to look toward the front door where the noise was coming from. It was a tiny little scraping sound echoing from the bottom of the door, like nails were being dragged along the wood.

Sam and Gabriel sprung to their feet and Dean instantly grabbed the nearest angel blade from the coffee table. He stood up to crouch protectively in front of Cas just in case it was another pack of angels trying to break into the house or something. Sam grabbed an angel blade too, before starting to edge close to the window near the front door.

“Sammy-boy, what are you doing? Get away from the window!” Gabriel hissed dramatically, trying to wave him back.

But Sam didn't obey Gabe's request. He held up a reassuring hand instead as he crept up to timidly peer out the window. The scratching noise kept echoing through the silent house, making everyone nervous. Geez, what _was_ that sound? Dean watched his little brother search the front porch and noticed a smile briefly flicker on his face. Sam suddenly dashed to the door and yanked it open – to let Gabriel's dog inside.

“ _Dickie!_ ” Gabriel rejoiced loudly.

Dean exhaled with relief and lowered his angel blade as Gabriel ran to scoop his dog up into his arms. Oh, thank God. No one was trying to break in. It was just the hump-machine that always followed them around. Sam firmly shut the front door and locked it again before walking over to join Gabriel in petting the Jack Russell Terrier.

“Where have you been?! I was worried sick about you, _you little shit!_ ” Gabriel spat angrily, even though he was cuddling the dog with tenderness, “Ugh! You _stink_! And you're covered in _glitter_! Ew, what the hell have you been doing?!”

The little dog barked joyfully a few times as if he was replying to Gabriel's questions.

“Juliet? Who the hell is Juliet?” Gabriel asked, his eyebrows scrunching together, “Have you been sneaking into strip clubs again? I swear to Dad, Dickie, if you don't stop harassing those strippers, I'm gonna take you to the vet and get you neutered! Do you hear me?”

The dog whined a little and pawed at the front of Gabriel's shirt. He was even giving the archangel a sad look with those big puppy-dog eyes, like he was begging him not to go to the vet. Dean shook his head and glanced back at Cas, seeing that a tiny bit of happiness had come back to his pretty face. It seemed that Gabriel's dog helped Cas feel better and Dean was glad. While Gabriel smooched and hugged his dog, Sam's phone 'dinged' from his pocket. Dean turned back around to watch his little brother retrieve his phone and look at it. A strange mixture of bewilderment and worry flashed across Sam's face when he stared down at the screen.

“Dean,” he said, looking up, “Bobby just sent me a weird message.”

“What kind of message?” Dean asked.

Instead of answering the question, Sam walked over to show Dean the phone. It was a text – from Bobby's cell phone number, of course – but the entire message only consisted of three letters: _S.O.S._ Dean could feel his own heart rate picking up speed the longer he stared at the phone. S.O.S? Why was Bobby sending them a distress call in the form of a text? Why didn't he just call them? Was he under attack or something?

“Call him,” Dean suggested, “See if he'll answer the phone.”

Sam did what he was told, instantly dialing the old man's number and holding the phone to his ear. In the meantime, Gabriel wandered closer to the group and Cas leaned forward in his chair. Both angels were clearly paying attention to what was happening and starting to worry just like the Winchesters.

“What's going on?” Gabriel asked.

“Bobby sent us a distress call,” Sam whispered.

Everyone's eyes gravitated to Sam, watching and waiting to hear if Bobby was going to answer the phone or not. Several gut-wrenching seconds ticked by before Sam finally huffed a breath and dropped his hand.

“He's not answering,” Sam gulped.

Dean's heart sank. Oh, shit. Why wouldn't Bobby answer the damn phone?! Was he hurt or something?! Although he felt like panicking, Dean quickly tried to figure out the best course of action. The old man had at least five different phone numbers to choose from. Maybe he would answer one of the others.

“Try his fake FBI number,” Dean instructed as he pulled out his own phone, “I'll try his Coroner number.”

While Dean and Sam dialed on their phones, Cas and Gabriel both watched anxiously in silence. Dean held the phone up to his ear and listened to it ring. It rang... and rang... and rang... until it eventually switched over to the answering machine. Dean mumbled a few profanities as he lowered the phone to press 'end.' Dammit! Why wouldn't he pick up?

“He's still not answering,” Sam mumbled anxiously.

Dean was about to try calling another number when Sam's phone 'dinged' again. Sammy quickly looked at the screen in his hand and grimaced before holding it up for Dean to see. It was another text message, only this one had numbers instead of letters. The only thing it said was _911_.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean breathed.

His head was suddenly filled with terrible reasons as to why Bobby would be talking like this. Oh, God. What if Bobby was trapped somewhere and he only had enough battery life to send texts? What if his hands were tied up and he could only press a few buttons at a time? What if he was in serious trouble? What if he was _dying_?

“We have to go get him,” Sam announced, already starting for the door.

“Wait, Sam! We can't just leave. The baby is gonna be here in a few hours,” Dean said, gesturing to Cas in the rocking chair.

Sam's fearful eyes flickered between Dean and Cas and a sense of understanding filled his eyes.

“Okay. Well, you guys stay here with Cas and I'll go get him,” he compromised.

“ _No_ ,” Gabriel stepped in to say, shaking his head, “In fact, _hell no_! You're not going out there alone while those stab-happy angels are running around! No, _I'll_ go with you.”

“Gabriel, _you_ have to deliver the baby. You said you had seniority and all that shit, remember?” Dean reminded, “Besides, if you leave this cabin, you won't be able to get back in.”

Gabriel huffed in aggravation and tightened his arms around his dog as he stared longingly at Sam.

“Well... The kid can't go by himself. We should all just stay here and wait it out,” the archangel squeaked, sounding worried.

“Gabe, this is _Bobby_. He's like a _father_ to us. And he's begging for  help _now_ ,” Sam said, holding up his phone, “We can't wait it out.”

The room got very quiet for a few minutes while everyone looked around with worry. Sammy was right. Bobby needed help now. The guy never sent emergency messages unless he meant it. But Gabriel was right, too. Sam couldn't go out there alone, not with those flying monkeys on the look-out for them. That only left one option... and it was the last thing Dean wanted to do.

Dean's eyes carefully traveled up to meet Cas's and he could tell that the angel already knew what he was going to say. Cas's free hand was back to clutching the arm of the rocking chair and his head was already starting to shake back and forth a little bit. Fear and panic were growing in his precious blue eyes. But no matter how much they both hated it, Dean had to say it.

“I'll go with Sam,” the man uttered, feeling sick.

As soon as the words were out of Dean's mouth, Cas tried his best to climb to his feet. He struggled with the size of his huge stomach and ultimately had to grab onto Dean's sleeve to help himself up. But once he was standing, his wide eyes bore into Dean with fear and honesty as he clung desperately to the man's arm.

“Our... our child needs you, Dean,” the angel reminded, “He – he will be here at any time -”

“I know, baby. I know he's coming,” Dean nodded, reaching down to cradle Cas's warm tight stomach, “and I'm gonna try my best to get back here before he's born. But Sam and I have to help Bobby, Cas. He would do the same for any of us. Besides, Gabriel said I couldn't be in the room while the baby is born anyway, remember? Maybe this will work out for everybody.”

The pleading, worried look on Cas's face never faltered, but his blue eyes softened a bit. For a few seconds, he only clung to Dean's arm and stared at him with pain. Then he suddenly yanked Dean down into a furious hug, wrapping both strong arms tight around the man's shoulders and neck. Dean quickly hugged him back, careful of his large stomach between them.

“You must return for your son, Dean,” the angel whispered, his voice cracking.

“I promise I'll come back for both of you,” Dean replied softly.

After giving a soulful whimper, Cas leaned up to kiss Dean square on the lips. The man's eyes fluttered shut and he quickly responded, opening his own mouth so that their tongues could meet. Dean could tell that this kiss was a serious one. Cas's hands slid up to hold the back of his head and his mouth was almost suctioned to Dean's, not wanting to let it go. Cas was kissing him like he was going away to war or something and it broke Dean's heart.

“Don't worry, Cas. I'll be fine,” Dean pulled away to say, wanting to reassure his angel, “Just focus on the baby, okay? Stay focused on him until I get back.”

Cas nodded before looking down at his stomach. Once the angel finally let go of his shoulders, Dean carefully lowered himself to kneel on the floor. His head was almost level with Cas's stomach and he had to strain to look at it because it was glowing so brightly. Dean felt that he should say something to the baby too, since the kid was probably listening anyway. The man reached out to hold both sides of Cas's belly and leaned closer to the huge bump. He tried his best to shake off nervousness before actually speaking.

“H – hey, in there,” Dean said quietly, feeling heat on his cheeks, “Uh, it's me. I just... I just want you to know that I'm going to get Bobby and I'll be right back, okay? And, um, if it's possible, can you wait until I get back before you come out of there? 'Cause I kinda want to be here for it,” Dean gulped and gently rested his forehead to Cas's stomach, “... I – I love you, little man... And I can't wait to show you what fireworks look like.”

Dean was rewarded with a tiny bit of movement from inside Cas's stomach and it nearly broke his heart again. In order to avoid more tears, Dean quickly stamped a kiss to Cas's massive stomach before standing back up to give the angel another kiss on the lips.

“I love you, Cas. I'll be right back,” he repeated.

“I love you too, Dean,” Cas whimpered.

Dean had to practically pull himself free from the angel's grasp to walk away. Emotions were trying to get the best of him but Dean really wanted to focus on the things he needed to do. Sam and Gabriel were in the middle of their own passionate goodbye when Dean tugged Sam on the arm and gestured toward the door. Geez, why was everybody getting so damn emotional? It wasn't that big of a deal. They were just leaving for a few hours to get Bobby.

“We'll be fine, Gabe. I'll call you once we get there, alright?” Sam promised.

“You'd _better_ call me,” Gabriel warned, sounding like a worried housewife, “I don't want to see moose pictures on the side of my milk carton in the morning, Sam Winchester. I'm not kidding.”

“Relax, shorty. We'll be right back. Come on, Sam,” Dean ushered, grabbing the keys.

The Winchesters tossed a few goodbye waves to their angels as they unlocked the front door and carefully exited onto the porch. Dean gave Cas one last glance – making sure to memorize the way he looked while he was fully pregnant, just in case he missed the birth – before shutting the cabin door behind him. The angelic seals were complete again on the outside, covering Cas and Gabriel in protection. Dean and Sam both shared weary glances in the dark before starting off for the Impala. They were both equally distraught about Bobby being in danger _and_ having to leave their angels behind. But the only thing they could do now was get the mission over with.

On his way to the Impala, Dean realized that he was still holding Cas's stuffed bee in his hand. He looked down at the little toy in the moonlight as he walked, seeing the fuzzy little face looking back at him. Part of him wanted to return it to Cas before he left because he knew it belonged to the angel. But a much bigger part of him wanted to keep the little bee, because every time he looked at it, he remembered that precious little kid from his dream...

“I'll keep calling Bobby. Maybe he'll answer,” Sam mentioned as he climbed into the passenger seat of the Impala.

Dean cleared his throat and stuffed the plush toy into his coat pocket as he finished the walk to the driver's seat. He had to focus on the things he needed to get done instead of everything he was leaving behind. Bobby's house was at least two hours away and it was already one in the morning. If everything went smoothly, they would probably make it back before daylight.

“Try every number you can think of,” Dean said, starting up the engine.

While Sammy went down the list of Bobby's many phone numbers, Dean pulled out of Rufus's driveway and started off toward the interstate. For the next twenty minutes, that was all they did; drove toward Bobby's and frantically called his phones. The Impala was filled with nervous energy and the sound of the roaring motor. It wasn't until he went to make a left turn onto the highway that Dean noticed his rear view mirror was crooked. He reached up to tilt it back into position -

And caught sight of a figure sitting in the backseat.

Dean barely had time to turn around and see the person before they reached out to touch both Winchesters on the forehead. Dean blacked out instantly.

* * *

“Dean.”

Dean groggily shifted around at the sound of his brother's voice. His neck was stiff and his legs felt sore, as if he had been sitting in the same position for too long. He tried to lift one of his hands to touch his own face, but found that he couldn't move his arm. Hell, he couldn't move his legs and feet either. What the hell was going on?

“Dean,” Sam's voice repeated in a whisper, “Wake up.”

Dean eventually raised his head and blinked his eyes open after feeling his hand being shaken. The man found himself sitting in a metal chair with his legs and arms chained tightly to it. There was a chain around his torso too, tying him to the back of the chair. Dean gulped and looked around the room, seeing unfamiliar white walls and floors. God, it was so bright in here. Where was he? What happened? And where was Sam?

“Sam?” Dean called.

“Hey,” Sam's voice sounded full of relief, “Thank God. Are you okay?”

Dean turned his head to look over his shoulder, where his brother's voice was coming from, and saw that the guy was directly at his back. Sammy was tied to a chair too, positioned in the opposite direction. They were back-to-back and able to touch hands, but that was the extend of their reach. Dean used his fingers to feel along the chains around his brother's wrists. Shit. He would never be able to break through that metal. It was too solid.

“I'm good,” Dean said quietly, “What the hell is going on?”

“Angels,” Sam breathed, “They've been walking back and forth and talking outside that door.”

Dean turned his head to the right and saw a single wooden door. There were no windows, so he couldn't see whatever was beyond it. But he could hear faint footsteps just like Sam mentioned.

“They tricked us, Dean,” Sam whispered, sounding guilty, “Bobby didn't send us those messages. _The angels_ sent them. They wanted to find us... I'm – I'm so sorry.”

Dean swallowed hard and closed his eyes briefly. Dammit. _Dammit!_ How could they have fallen into such an obvious freakin' trap?! Now, Cas and Gabriel were all alone back at the cabin! Oh, God. _Cas!_ And _the baby!_ The baby was going to be born soon! _Shit!_

Although panic and fear were quickly boiling up in his stomach, Dean forced himself to keep his emotions in check. He couldn't afford to freak out right now, not while he was chained up in his current position. He needed to keep his head clear, so he could figure out a way to get out of this situation.

“Have they been in here, yet?” Dean asked his brother.

Before Sam could give his answer, the door to the right swung open. A pair of angels walked into the room, shut the door behind them, and made their way close to the Winchesters. Dean eyed the angel in front of him and watched her raise an angel blade. She pointed the sharp end directly toward the center of Dean's chest, letting it hover over his beating heart as her eyes narrowed toward him with authority.

“Where is Castiel?” she demanded, face void of expression.

Dean felt a smirk slide across his own face as he craned his neck to bat his eyelashes at his captor.

“Bite me,” he spat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins. *evil laugh* :) I really hope this dramatic angst isn't turning some of you off of the story. I know it's not something I usually write, but for some reason this is the way the story came to me. Angst and all. (I'm so sorry.) Btw, 'Juliet' is _not_ the name of a stripper. It's the name of a canon Supernatural character. And I promise 20 house points to anyone who figures out who Dickie really spent his time with in the beginning of this chapter. (Do I hear a new ship pulling into the docks?) ;) I'll give you a heads up now: the next few chapters are going to have some pretty brutal cliffhangers. (Again, I'm sorry.) But! Jude will be born in the next chapter! Hooray! :)


	11. Chapter 11

Castiel gently rubbed the sides of his swollen stomach as he swayed back and forth in the rocking chair. The angel's eyes – and his brother's eyes, too – were positioned on the front door across the room. Apart from the tiny metronomic squeak of the wooden chair moving repeatedly against the floor, the cabin was completely silent. Castiel and Gabriel were both too concerned about their missing partners to engage in mindless conversation.

By Castiel's personal estimation, it would have taken the Winchesters two hours to get to Bobby's residence, another hour or two to retrieve him – depending on how much trouble they had to deal with when they arrived – and two more hours to return to the cabin. That was a total of six hours at the most... and six hours had come and gone in the blink of an eye. And the Winchesters had _still_ not returned. Beyond the painted windows of the cabin, the sky was filled with daylight. Dean and Sam departed at one o'clock that morning and it was already noon. Eleven hours had passed without a word from either of them.

Many times throughout the night, Gabriel attempted to reach them by using the telephone. For hours, the archangel listened to the phone ring and ring in vain without receiving any answer. He paced back and forth in front of the door for a while as well before eventually wandering over to sit on the couch. That was when the painful silence settled into the cabin, accompanied by intense worry and outright anxiety. Though the angels didn't verbally acknowledge the situation, they were both fully aware that something must have gone terribly wrong. Otherwise, Dean and Sam would have already returned to the cabin.

During his long night of worry and fear, Castiel was also monitoring his child's physical condition. Inside his grace, the baby slept for most of the night, still gaining weight on a steady rise to full maturity. Above all else, Castiel made sure to feel for Jude's heart rate and breathing patterns. If the baby's heart rate fluctuated even the tiniest bit, that meant it was time to remove him. In all honesty, Jude could be safely removed at anytime now that he was fully developed. But Castiel was trying to hold off on the delivery for as long as possible for Dean's sake. The man said he wanted to be present for his child's birth and Castiel desperately wanted to grant his request. But if Jude's heart rate faltered, the angels would have no choice but to extract him immediately.

“ _Where are they?!_ ” Gabriel suddenly barked.

Castiel flinched at his brother's unexpected outburst, which accidentally stirred Jude awake. The baby wiggled slightly inside Castiel's confined grace, seeming to have woken up from sleep. Cas attempted to sooth his unborn child by caressing the skin over his stomach some more, gently massaging the glowing tissue with slow circles. As Jude began to relax, Castiel flashed a worried glance toward his angelic brother.

“I don't know,” the angel replied in defeat.

With a huff of aggravation, Gabriel stood from the couch and began to pace again, retracing the same steps he took earlier in front of the door. His golden eyes were flickering between the windows as he walked, staring out toward the driveway to watch for the Impala. Castiel observed his brother's impatient movements, wishing that he could relieve his distress. Gabriel needed to calm down and retain his focus. Otherwise, he might accidentally botch the baby's delivery.

Castiel's eyes dropped down to the top of his stomach, where he caressed the tight skin. Waiting for Dean wasn't the _only_ reason why Castiel was holding off on the delivery. It was also because he was afraid he may die before even getting to see his own offspring. Of course, the angel had already decided that he would be content with whatever happened to him as long as his child was alive and healthy. But if he _was_ destined to die giving birth – if the only purpose of his existence was to bear Dean Winchester's child and perish immediately after – then Castiel wanted to make sure their child made it safely into Dean's arms before he died. Until he witnessed Dean hold Jude for the first time, Castiel was going to fight to stay alive with every ounce of willpower he possessed. For Dean and for their son.

But time was ticking by at a rapid pace. And there was no sign of Dean, Sam, or Bobby. Their phones remained unreachable and they had not prayed a single prayer. The Winchesters had simply disappeared, leaving Castiel and Gabriel to fret over their absence. Cas's eyes dropped back down to his own large stomach where he stared at it with growing fear. It would only be a matter of time before the baby needed to be extracted, with or without Dean present.

“Dean,” the angel whispered to himself, shaking his head, “Please hurry...”

* * *

Another hard, swift punch connected with the right side of Dean's jaw and he practically heard one of his own teeth crack. His mind went fuzzy and his sight turned blurry for a second while his brain rattled around in his skull. But he eventually shook it off and spat out the blood that was pooling in his mouth before raising his eyes to look up at the angel who had given him the hard punch.

“You hit like a bitch,” he breathed, spattering blood on their nice clean suits.

Of course, neither of the angels' faces made any kind of expression. They only stared more forcefully at Dean with their fists clenched.

“Where is Castiel?” one of them repeated.

Ugh, the damn angels had asked that same stupid question a hundred times now, all in that same monotone, dead-pan voice. For a solid hour, that was all they did; ask that question and try to beat the answer out of Dean. Luckily, most of the focus was on him and not Sam. Apparently, the angels seemed to think that Dean knew more about Cas than Sam did – which was true in every way. But Dean had no intention of letting them know that they were on the right track. And he sure as hell wasn't _ever_ going to give them the right answer to their question.

Dean took a few breaths and lowered his head a bit to let the blood drain out of his mouth again. The red liquid drizzled over his own lap and onto the metal chair between his thighs. After so many long years of hunting and being hunted, Dean was quite used to bleeding during an interrogation. All his life, he just sat back and smiled, waiting for his captors to either let him go or kill him. But now that he actually had something to live for, Dean knew that he needed to find a way out of this situation that wouldn't end in his own death. Or Sam's, for that matter. He needed to figure out a way to convince the angels that he didn't know anything about Cas or the pregnancy.

“Why... why do you want to know where he is, anyway?” Dean slurred, raising his head to look at the angels in front of him, “Did he try to fly in a non-fly zone or something? Sabotage your chances of becoming prom king? 'Cause I gotta tell ya, you didn't have much chance to begin with.”

The male angel's eyebrows scrunched together and he shared another brief look with the female angel before stomping forward to grab Dean by the throat. He violently shoved the hunter against the back of his seat, choking off his air supply and bruising his Adam's apple. Dean opened his mouth to gasp for air but he couldn't breathe. The only thing he could do was blink toward the glaring angel in front of him and feel the pain in his neck.

“We know that Castiel is pregnant,” the angel hissed, “Tell us where he is hiding or we will extract the information from you by force.”

The angel released the man's neck and Dean instantly took a huge gulp of air, accidentally swallowing some of his own blood in the process. He coughed and panted afterward, trying to get oxygen to return to his brain. Shit. The angels already knew Cas was pregnant so Dean couldn't deny that. But maybe he could deny knowing about it instead...

“P – pregnant?” Dean scoffed, putting his best poker face on, “Cas can't be pregnant... He's a guy... I think you dipshits are a little confused...”

Dean really hoped that his fake confusion seemed real enough to convince the angels that he was oblivious to the pregnancy. It was hard to tell if they were buying it or not because their faces were so bland. Instead of replying to Dean's denial, the lady angel stepped forward to reach toward his jacket. Dean flinched back, not knowing what she was going to do. Her hand slipped inside one of his pockets – and she pulled out the stuffed bumble bee.

Dean had been monitoring his own facial expressions the whole time, trying his best to make it seem like he didn't know a damn thing about Cas being pregnant. But the moment he laid eyes on that precious little toy, all his defenses crumbled. Son of a bitch. He forgot that toy was in his pocket. And seeing those tiny wings and that soft black and yellow fabric instantly reminded Dean of all the sweet moments he had shared with his unborn kid over the past week; singing to him, feeling him move, watching him grow inside Cas's stomach... That little stuffed bee was the only linking factor Dean had to his own kid right now.

And the angels knew it.

It was too late for Dean to deny his own involvement, now. As soon as he saw the toy, his own eyes had given him away. The angels knew he was lying. They knew that he was trying to protect Cas and the baby. Hell, they probably knew that he was the baby's father, too. Dean's plan to elude the angels had gone to shit in no time flat.

The door to the right suddenly opened, gaining everyone's attention. Another angel came into the room and immediately walked up to the others. Dean watched the interaction, listening closely to figure out as much information as he could.

“He wants us to begin the process,” the new angel said.

“Did he say anything else?” the male angel asked.

“No. Only that we should start with the younger one,” the new angel replied.

Dean felt his heart begin to pound. The younger one? Were they talking about Sam? What the hell were they going to do? And why did they want to start with Sam?!

“Dean?” Sam whispered at his back, “What are they talking about?”

“I – I don't know, Sammy,” Dean whispered, reaching back as far as the chains would allow so that he could grab hold of Sam's wrists, “Listen, man. Whatever happens -”

Dean didn't get to finish his sentence because the angels came up to grab the back of Sam's chair. They ripped him right out of Dean's grasp and began towing him toward the door, chair and all. Fear and panic raised up in Dean's chest as he watched his little brother being removed from the room. The same emotions were clear on Sammy's face, too. His eyes were huge, he was breathing harshly, and he looked scared to death. Dean wanted to tell his little brother that everything was going to be okay and that he was going to take care of it, but Sam was yanked out of the room before he could even draw a breath to speak. The white door slammed shut behind him, leaving Dean alone with a single angel.

“ _Where are you taking him?!_ ” Dean shouted, his voice high with panic, “ _What are you going to do to him?!_ ”

The lone angel didn't answer Dean's questions. He only stood in the corner like a statue, not even looking in Dean's direction. For a few seconds, Dean tried desperately to yank himself free from the chains, hoping to at least get an arm free. But it was no use. Those assholes had buckled him down tight to the metal chair. Dean's heart was racing with dread as he stared sideways at the white door to his right. Oh, God. What were they planning to do to Sam? A few seconds of silence went by before the sound of Sam's voice echoed from another room.

He was screaming.

* * *

Castiel could feel that the baby was no longer comfortable inside his grace. Jude had rotated into a new position – upside down with his head toward Cas's pelvis and his feet toward the angel's lungs – and he was becoming increasingly distressed. The longer the angel sat in the rocking chair, the more severe the baby's affliction became. Hoping to give his offspring some relief, Castiel took the time to stand up, using all the strength he possessed to carefully climb to his feet.

But as soon as he stood up and straightened his back, Castiel could feel his child's heart rate begin to slow. Panic swept over the angel as he quickly clutched his stomach and slumped against the fireplace mantle near by. Oh, no. Cas's grace was not sufficient enough to contain the baby anymore. Jude could no longer afford to wait for Dean's arrival. It was time. He needed to be extracted _now_.

“Gabriel,” Castiel panted, feeling himself beginning to tremble.

The archangel, who was still pacing in front of the cabin door with fear and worry, paused his steps to look toward Cas. His golden eyes flickered down to see the angel holding his own stomach and shock instantly overcame his expression.

“N – now?” Gabriel breathed, his face turning pale, “But they aren't back yet. We can't deliver him _now_. ”

“He is becoming distressed,” Castiel said quickly, trying to take as many soothing breaths as he could, “We can't wait anymore... Please, brother, we must begin.”

For a second, Gabriel seemed hesitant. His golden eyes only flashed back and forth between Castiel and the front door. But, luckily, he leaned over to pick up an angel blade from the nearest coffee table before starting across the room. In the meantime, Castiel attempted to keep his own heart rate under control by breathing calmly, inhaling and exhaling slowly and leaning forward in an effort to decrease the baby's distress.

Midway across the living room, however, Gabriel suddenly stopped short. His amber eyes grew wide and the angel blade dropped from his hand, clanking to the wooden floor and rolling away. Castiel looked up at his brother, wondering why he was frozen in the middle of the room. All of the color had drained from Gabriel's face and his mouth had fallen open. His hands jutted up to brace flat against both of his ears as an inhuman groan irrupted from his mouth.

“ _No_ ,” he breathed, shaking his head and dropping to his knees, “No, no, no! _Sam!_ ”

Castiel watched his brother cry out in agony, feeling helpless. What was happening? Why was Gabriel on the floor calling out Sam's name? Did Sam finally pray to him?

“What is it, Gabriel?” Castiel asked.

Gabriel's head snapped up to look at Castiel and the angel could see acute panic in his brother's eyes.

“Can't you _hear_ that?!” the archangel shouted, looking on the verge of tears.

Castiel shook his head. No, he couldn't hear anything but Gabriel's voice. Cas's grace was so diminished that he could no longer hear prayers. Gabriel groaned out loud again, closing his eyes and covering his ears tightly.

“No! They're _torturing_ him!” the archangel cried, “Angels! … They caught them! … Oh, God! He's – _he's calling out my name, Castiel!_ ”

As Gabriel groaned in agony on the floor, Castiel nearly gasped in shock. The angels had taken the Winchesters. That was why Dean and Sam had not returned to the cabin. And now, the angels were torturing them, probably to gain information about where Castiel and Gabriel were located. And poor Gabriel could hear everything. He could hear Sam calling out for him, begging to be saved. Castiel knew that the angels were probably doing the same thing to Dean as well, and the thought made him cringe with horror. What if Dean was suffering in that moment? What if he was calling out _Castiel's_ name? What if the angels succeeded in _killing_ him? What if Dean and Castiel's son was left completely orphaned?

Making a snap decision, Castiel suddenly rose off of the fireplace mantle and hobbled toward his brother. He remained hunched over with his stomach between his hands the whole way, trying to keep the baby's discomfort to a minimum as he walked. Once close enough, Castiel reached down to clutch Gabriel's shoulder, causing the archangel to look up at him.

“Go get them,” the angel demanded.

Gabriel scrambled to his feet, still clutching his own head with one hand. His amber eyes were glistening with tears and his expression was distorted with pain. It was clear that he could still hear Sam's disturbing prayers but he was hesitating, glancing between Castiel's face and the glowing stomach between them.

“If I leave, I can't get back in,” Gabriel reminded breathlessly, “You'll be here alone... and you... you might...”

The archangel didn't need to finish his sentence. He was obviously referring to the fact that Castiel would have to deliver his own child and could possibly die in the process. But Castiel wasn't concerned about that right now. He was more concerned for the Winchester's lives and Dean being united with his son. Castiel gave Gabriel's shoulder a tight squeeze as they shared a look of deep meaning.

“This is the last thing I will ever ask of you, brother,” Cas nearly whispered, “Save them. For my child's sake.”

A shining tear rolled from the archangel's eye down his cheek, painting a wet streak on his face. It was an unspoken realization between them that this could possibly be the last time that they saw each other. And Castiel's heart ached with grief at the sight of emotion in Gabriel's stare. It was clear that he didn't want to leave Castiel's side but they had no other choice. With a quick tug, Gabriel pulled Castiel into a warm embrace, wrapping both arms around his back and hugging him close. Castiel closed his eyes and enjoyed the brief moment, knowing that it could be the last that they ever shared.

“I've always been proud of you, Castiel,” the archangel whispered.

Castiel only whimpered in reply, too full of emotion to actually speak. They stayed in their personal embrace for a moment before the archangel released the seraph. They shared one last look, in which Castiel could see the determination rising on his brother's face, and then Gabriel was gone; vanished from the cabin to fly off and save the Winchesters.

In Gabriel's absence, Castiel suddenly felt the weight of his decision. He was all alone in the cabin, save Gabriel's dog, and Jude's heart rate was dropping lower and lower by the second. The angel only had a few precious moments in which to prepare for his son's delivery or else the baby's heart would stop beating completely. Castiel took a deep breath and glanced around, attempting to figure out the best place to stage the birth. He knew that blood and bodily fluids would be discarded, so the floor was the most practical choice. He would also need to remove the top portions of his clothing for better access to his stomach.

Working rapidly, Castiel shrugged out of his trench coat and tossed it on the floor by the fireplace before slipping out of his tie and shirt. Once the angel was topless, he hobbled back to the fireplace where he carefully slid down to sit on the wood floor. He braced his back against the brick mantle and breathed harshly, clutching his own large stomach. He could barely feel Jude's pulse, now. It was too shallow to detect. Castiel needed to extract him immediately – but the nearest angel blade was ten feet across the floor.

The angel's heart sank as he stared at the weapon in the distance. He would never be able to reach it without jostling the infant inside him. Just as Castiel was about to try crawling toward it, Gabriel's dog trotted over from behind the couch. The little dog picked up the handle of the weapon with his mouth and walked it over to Castiel, wagging his tail the whole time. Castiel quickly retrieved the weapon from him and gulped, feeling relieved.

“Th – thank you,” the angel breathed.

Dickie sat down next to Cas on the floor to watch him with curious eyes. Once he had the angel blade in his hand, Castiel paused to look down at the top of his own glowing stomach. Fear and anxiety were inching their way back into his heart, reminding him that he could very well end up killing both himself and his unborn child if he did not do this correctly. One small slip and they would both be dead. Feeling a new stir of emotion, Castiel briefly looked up toward the ceiling, pining for courage and clarity.

“Please, Father,” the angel prayed, voice cracking, “Don't let me fail.”

After his sentimental request, Castiel quickly reached over and retrieved his discarded tie. He knew that this was going to be painful for him, because both his grace _and_ his vessel were going to be damaged, so he needed to take precaution. The angel wadded up the blue fabric and stuffed it into his own mouth, giving himself something to bite down on and muffle his own screams. Afterward, he used his hand to press against the top of his stomach, feeling the outline of the baby's body through the tight skin. When he found the space between Jude and his own vessel, Castiel held a finger on the spot and raised the angel blade with the other. All he needed to do was make one small incision. One tiny cut. Then, he could pull himself open enough to retrieve his child.

With one bracing inhale, Castiel carefully brought the sharp edge of the blade down against his own stomach. The angel groaned and bit down on his tie as he sliced himself open, making sure to apply just enough pressure to break through the surface and not injure the baby. He could feel the raw, stinging pain of it radiating through his entire body. Blood immediately began to pour from the incision and the room lit up with the glow of his open grace. The angel's true form was briefly exposed, causing the air to shift in its presence.

Still clutching the silky tie between his clamped teeth, Castiel quickly dropped the bloody angel blade on the floor and reached up to grasp his own wound. Though his hands were trembling and he was overcome with nervousness and pain, Cas forced himself to grasp both sides of the incision – and ripped it open even further. Light engulfed the room and the angel closed his eyes, not wanting to be blinded by his own grace. Castiel was barely aware that he was hearing his own scream as he forced his own hands down inside his grace. The space was hot, wet, and confined; barely flexible enough for his fingers to wiggle around the infant's form. But he could _feel_ the baby between his hands. He could _feel_ Jude's tiny back and bent legs slowly moving into his grasp.

With just a little more coaxing, the small baby was locked safely inside Castiel's fingers. And through the blur of pain, blood, and grace, the angel quickly and carefully removed the child from his womb, slowly pulling the infant out of his body and up into his trembling arms. A gush of fluids spilled across the floor as Castiel finally blinked his eyes open to look down at the baby in his grasp. He only beheld Jude long enough to see that he was unharmed before spitting out his tie and lowering his head. Knowing that the baby's lungs were still full of fluid, Castiel quickly suctioned it out with his own mouth, removing the blockage so that the baby could take his first breath. He was wiggling fanatically in Castiel's hands, wanting to breathe.

And after he inhaled air for the first time, Jude filled the room with a beautiful cry.

Hearing the sound of his son's voice caused Castiel to realize the magnitude of this moment. He was cradling _his child_ ; so tiny and naked and fresh from the womb. His small legs were kicking, his tiny fingers were grasping, and he was crying repeatedly; making Castiel's ears and heart tingle with delight at the precious sound. Jude was wet and covered in blood but he was completely intact; ten fingers, ten toes, a head covered in hair, and a good set of vocal cords. He was definitely a boy, possessing his own male genitalia. And even now, Castiel could see parts of Dean's features in his son's face; the same nose and pouted lips he had come to adore. Their child was breathtakingly beautiful. He was the single most amazing thing that Castiel had ever beheld.

While Jude continued to exercise his high-pitched voice, Castiel used a shaking hand to reach out and grab the nearest cloth, wanting to swaddle the wet infant to keep him warm. The angel pulled his trench coat into his lap and gently laid the baby inside it before reaching over to pick up the angel blade again. Though his hands were trembling violently, Castiel carefully severed the umbilical cord that connected them and tied it off before wrapping the tan fabric around the baby. He covered Jude's body up into a loose bundle before raising him back up into his arms, bringing him closer to his eyes so that he could fully cherish the sight of his son again.

Now that the hardest part was over, Castiel could feel just how much the process had affected his own being. His grace was utterly wiped out, almost used up completely. The angel was basically human and his vessel was losing blood at an alarming rate. It was draining out of his open abdomen but there was nothing he could do about it. His grace was too weak to heal anything. All he could do was apply pressure to the wound with one hand and hold his baby close with the other. In his heart, Castiel knew that it wouldn't be long before he faded out. Whether it was from blood loss or the loss of his grace, Cas could feel that he was close to fainting, both from trauma _and_ excitement. Physically, he felt woozy and queasy. But emotionally, Castiel was the happiest angel in the world.

Jude's echoing cries had quieted down to soft whimpers and his flailing limbs had calmed down. The baby seemed content inside Castiel's warm coat. And now, his lovely eyes were open. They were blinking slowly up at Castiel, staring up at the angel as if he was a curious sight. Castiel smiled down at his son, feeling his own eyes beginning to swell with tears.

“Hello, son,” the angel hummed.

The baby, of course, didn't reply to Cas's statement. He only stared up at Castiel and curled his tiny fingers against his own face, seeming to enjoy the act of moving his own hands. A few wet tears fell from Castiel's eyes as he cradled his son close. Jude was perfect in every way; so fragile and tiny. Castiel never wanted to let him go. He wanted to hold him just like this forever...

“Aww. How sweet.”

Castiel raised his head at the sudden sound of a new voice. The angel had been so captivated by the miracle of his own child that he didn't realize the front door of the cabin was wide open. A new person was standing in the middle of the room now, staring down at Castiel and his newborn child with a devilish grin. Gabriel's dog instantly began to growl, racing up to guard Cas in a protective stance with his teeth bared and his fur raised. Castiel blinked repeatedly at the mincing figure, wondering why the dog was reacting to them in such a hostile way.

“He has your eyes, Castiel. And your fighting spirit too,” the person cooed.

Castiel instantly curled his arms tighter around his bundled baby, shielding him from the other angel in the room.

“ _Metatron_ ,” Cas breathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. Told ya. Worst cliffhanger ever. (Please don't kill me.) lol. :) I know it looks pretty bleak right now, but I promise that this is the worst part of the story. It's only gonna go up from here. :) I hope that Jude's birth wasn't too gross for you. And I know some of you are probably mad at me for making Cas deliver his own child, _and_ for Dean not being there to see it, _and_ for letting the angels torture Sam... But, I promise – I _swear_ – that everything is gonna be okay. (You know Gabe would never let anyone get away with hurting his moose.) Thank you all so, so much for continuing to read this story, even though it's so angsty. I love you all! :)


	12. Chapter 12

The scribe of God continued to take slow and deliberate steps closer to Castiel, causing Dickie's growl to grow louder and fiercer. Metatron – although he was occupying an unfamiliar human vessel – appeared to be the same as he ever was, bloated with confidence, egotism, and smugness. And it was clear that his intentions were not pleasant. The devilish look in his eye was enough to let Castiel know that he was here for a dastardly purpose. A purpose that most likely involved Cas's child. Metatron was currently endowed with a full range of angelic grace, unlike Castiel, who was barely an angel at all. The odds were currently stacked in Metatron's favor.

Castiel was fully aware of his own disposition. The blue-eyed angel had just delivered his own child with the use of an angel blade; destroying his own body so that his son's could be set free. Now, Castiel was almost human and losing blood at a steady pace. The angel was wounded, exhausted, and shaking. But no matter how broken and weak his physical form was, Castiel was determined to keep his child safe. The vow he made with himself to stay alive was still fresh in his mind. The angel wasn't going to let himself die until his child was united with his father. Until the moment Jude was inside Dean's arms, Castiel wasn't going to give up without a fight.

As the scribe of God moved closer to him in the room, Castiel glared upward from the floor. The dog between them was growling and barking, nipping toward Metatron's feet in a defensive manner. Dickie's loud voice was beginning to frighten the baby. In Cas's arms, Jude started to cry again, adding even more sound to the tense situation. Castiel curled the swaddled infant closer to his own chest with one hand as he carefully reached toward the floor with the other. The bloody angel blade that he used to deliver the baby was beside him and he needed to retrieve it for protection.

“My oh my, would you listen to that little scream?” Metatron smiled, tilting his ear toward Jude's high-pitched cry, “Those vocal cords must have come from the Winchester gene pool.”

“How did you get in here?” Castiel breathed, feeling his own heart beating irregularly.

Metatron took the time to glance back at the open door behind him. As the scribe's back was turned, Castiel quickly grabbed the angel blade and tucked his hand around the bundled baby. Now the weapon was on full display, glimmering against the tan trench coat in Castiel's trembling grasp. Metatron turned back around to look at Castiel, but the sight of the angel blade didn't disturb him at all. He only glanced down at it with a smirk before tilting his head in a condescending manner.

“Did you bump your head and lose your common sense when you fell from heaven, Castiel?” Metatron asked as he gestured toward the open door, “Don't you know what happens to paint when it gets wet?”

Castiel gulped and briefly studied the entrance of the cabin. Beyond the windows, rain was falling from the overcast sky, causing red paint to smear in streaks down the glass. The water had washed away all the sigils that Dean and Sam had painted on the entire house. The place was no longer protected from angels, which was why Metatron was able to walk inside so easily...

The scribe of God beamed down at Castiel with pride as he revealed an angel blade of his own. He pulled the sharp weapon out from behind his back and held it downward, displaying the blade but not putting it to use. The sight of the weapon caused Dickie to bark more intensely and caused Castiel to instantly cover his crying child. He bent his knees up and curled himself into a ball around Jude, using his own body to keep the baby safe. And the act of protecting him from Metatron made Castiel realize -

“It was _you_ ,” the angel breathed in shock, “ _You_ were sending the assassins.”

“Well, I wouldn't call them assassins,” Metatron debated, waving the angel blade around without care, “I mean, putting a weapon in someone's hand doesn't make them an assassin. Take you, for example. _You're_ holding a weapon but you're not going to murder anyone with it. Because let's be honest, Castiel, you're too weak to even stand up let alone use that weapon against me.”

The blue-eyed angel swallowed harshly again. Although Metatron was correct, Castiel refused to show any weakness. He stared powerfully up at the scribe of God as he cradled his child in safety, wanting to demonstrate his defense of the newborn. Castiel was determined to keep his son alive at all costs, even if it meant the end of his own life.

“I won't let you kill him,” Cas denied, shaking his head slowly.

The strangest look grew across Metatron's face. His eyebrows furrowed, his mouth turned downward, and his eyes filled with confusion.

“Kill him?” the scribe repeated, his voice full of surprise, “Why would I ever want to kill something with so much potential? So many useful genetics and undeveloped skills? No, no, Castiel. I don't want to kill him... I want to _keep_ him.”

Pure horror and disgust flew through Castiel like a flash of lightening. Keep him? Metatron wanted to take Jude for his own? He wanted to take Dean and Castiel's son away from them and raise him as his own child? That was outrageous! That was sick and immoral! Castiel would never allow such an atrocious fate to befall his child! The angel gave Metatron a vicious glare as the dog between them continued to growl and nip in his defense.

“You... will have to pry this child... from my ridged corpse... before that will ever happen,” Castiel breathed in honesty.

A warm smile returned to Metatron's face.

“I wouldn't have it any other way,” he replied simply, seeming pleased, “In fact, the only reason I brought this blade was so that I could kill you with it. But you know what? It looks like you've already done the job for me.”

Metatron used the angel blade in his hand to point toward all of the blood on the floor around Castiel. Cas, too, glanced down at the mess that surrounded him, seeing red liquid in all directions. Blood was still pouring from the incision in the angel's abdomen, pulsing out almost as fast as his heart was beating. Castiel cringed in despair as his eyes traveled down to the infant in his possession. If left unhealed, Castiel would run out of blood completely. His eyes would close on their own and would never reopen again...

With a fresh look of pompous delight, Metatron stepped around the coffee table and sat on the very edge of it. Dickie was still in a protective stance in front of Castiel and Jude but the scribe didn't seem to be affected by the dog's presence. Metatron faced Castiel and leaned back into a comfortable position, casually crossing his arms and legs.

“All I have to do now is wait for you to die,” he grinned, “Then _your_ son will be _my_ son... Little Metatron Junior.”

Castiel's eyes narrowed more forcefully at the angel as he held a wobbly, blood-soaked blade in front of the whimpering baby in his arms. Metatron was right. Soon, Castiel was going to die and there would be no one to stop him from taking Dean and Cas's son for himself.

But just as Castiel was about to give up hope, he caught sight of a figure moving behind Metatron...

* * *

Dean cringed and closed his eyes as he was forced to listen to the sound of his brother screaming for help. Sammy was somewhere close by and he was being hurt. That much Dean knew for sure. But he had no idea what the angels were doing to the poor kid. Whatever it was, it had to be painful. Because Dean had never heard his brother scream like that before. And the longer Sam cried out in agony, the more Dean's blood boiled.

“You soulless son of a bitch!” Dean shouted at the angel in the corner, “What the hell are you doing to him?!”

The angel remained a statue in the corner, eyes dead and body unmoving. Dean used all his strength to fight against the chains around him, squirming and jerking his limbs, hoping that something would break and he could get free. Sam had screamed so much that his voice was getting hoarse and starting to crack and Dean could feel himself becoming frantic. Shit! He needed to get to his brother! He needed to save Sam before it was too late! But how was he going to get free to do it? Maybe if Dean knocked himself over, the angel in the corner would walk over to sit him back up. And then, he could head butt the angel and take his blade or something.

Dean was about to make his own chair tip over when the entire room began to shake.

Sam's screams had finally stopped and it sounded like he was fine, but something else was happening now. It felt like an earthquake had struck or something. The floor, walls, and ceiling were all quaking and the light in the room was growing brighter and flickering. Thunderous, explosive sounds were coming from outside the door as if bombs were going off in a different room. Even the statue angel in the corner was shaken to life. He looked just as lost as Dean as he staggered toward the middle of the trembling room. Dean looked toward the door to his right, wondering what the hell was going on. Oh, God, was Sam okay? It sounded like the source of the explosions was coming from the same direction as Sam's voice.

“ _Sam?!_ ” Dean screamed, hoping his brother could hear him.

Sam didn't reply but the door to the right opened anyway. A panicked, frightened-looking angel stumbled into the room, wearing wide eyes and disheveled clothes. He looked toward the other angel in the corner as he clung to the doorway to stay standing.

“It's Gabriel!” the angel shouted in horror, “Gabriel is here!”

Dean gasped, feeling a smile burst across his own face. It wasn't an earthquake. It wasn't a bomb. Sam wasn't being killed. He was being _saved_. By his archangel boyfriend who was probably pissed beyond all imagination. The angel in the doorway pointed toward Dean with an unsteady finger as the room continued to shake.

“Kill him! Before Metatron returns!”

Just about the time the angel finished saying his sentence, a huge blast of light came from down the hallway. Dean closed his eyes and turned away as it engulfed the angel, knowing that the light had the power to blind him. It was gone in a few seconds and so was the angel. The other angel – the statue, who had been standing in the corner of Dean's room this whole time – only blinked toward the doorway in shock before retrieving his own blade. He set his eyes on Dean and stomped closer, pointing the sharp end of his weapon toward the man's chest. Dean shrank against his chair and braced for impact, knowing that it was going to hurt like hell and there was nothing he could do about it.

But just as the angel went to lunge his blade into Dean's chest, he paused and gasped. Dean watched the angel in front of him, noticing that he had stopped to look down at his own chest – where the end of an angel blade was poking through his body. The angel only had time to look down and see that he had been stabbed from behind before he burst into light, grace exploding everywhere. Dean closed his eyes and turned his head away until the light finally went out. Afterward, he looked up to watch the angel's vessel crumble to the floor. He assumed that Gabriel had come in to save him but Gabriel wasn't responsible for killing Dean's watch dog...

It was Crowley.

Dean gulped as he watched the demon buff away the blood on the shiny angel blade. It was weird seeing Crowley in a totally white room. His black suit and dark eyes were really bold compared to the bright walls and lights. The contrast was unsettling and the sight of the demon took Dean by surprise. What the hell was Crowley doing here in a place full of angels? How did he know where to find the Winchesters? And why did he kill the guy who was about to kill Dean? The room shook and quaked again as Gabriel's grace kept lighting up the hallway with explosions. Crowley glanced toward the open door, seeming indifferent to the archangel's murdering spree.

“Subtlety isn't his strongest trait, is it?” the demon muttered, obviously referring to Gabriel, “Oh well. He's done half of my job for me. I suppose I could overlook his childish behavior for now.”

“What are _you_ doing here?” Dean asked.

Crowley lowered the angel blade in his hand as he looked down at Dean in front of him. The demon gave a slight shrug and stuck his free hand inside his pocket.

“I'm honoring the terms of the deal I made,” he answered.

“I didn't make any deals with you,” Dean breathed, shaking his head.

Crowley rolled his eyes, seeming exasperated by the man's reply.

“No, you didn't. But someone else did,” the demon explained, “I came here to save you and your brother, but it seems the candy-coated archangel has taken over the rescue mission.”

Both of them took the time to glance toward the open door again, where they could hear angels screaming from all over the place. Yep, Gabriel was definitely doing some major damage out there. At least Dean knew Sammy was going to be okay. Dean looked back up at Crowley and wiggled in his chains, feeling his panic return.

“You've gotta get me out of here,” he said, “Cas is all alone out there and he's about to have the baby.”

A twinkle of surprise flickered across Crowley's face as he glanced down at the angel blade in his hand.

“Ah. Well, as much as I hate to be the bearer of bad news, I feel I must inform you that Castiel is not alone,” he mumbled carefully, “Metatron has infiltrated your little hideout.”

Dean felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. His mouth fell open and the air escaped his lungs as he stared up at Crowley in horror. What?! That asshole was in there with Cas?! No! Dammit, _no_! Dean couldn't let that Meta-asshole hurt Cas or the baby! He had to get to them! Before Dean could even summon the words to ask Crowley to get him out of the chair, the demon already raised his hands and snapped the chains away. The moment he was free, Dean instantly sprung to his feet, giving himself a head rush in the process.

“Here,” Crowley said, holding out an angel blade, “You're going to need this.”

Dean took the weapon without hesitation, ready to use it on anyone who stood between him and Cas. The man paused to look at the demon and could see a hint of amusement in his dark eyes. Crowley was really enjoying this for some reason.

“Why are you so happy about doing this for me?” Dean asked, feeling suspicious.

“Oh, I'm not doing this for you,” the demon denied, raising his hand to place it on Dean's shoulder, “By the way, next time you see Bobby Singer, tell him that hell sends its love.”

Dean only had enough time to see the gleam of infatuation glow in Crowley's eyes before black smoke surrounded him. He was in the dark for a single second, long enough to be transported to a different place. And it only took him a few more seconds to realize that he had been moved to Rufus's cabin. Dean was suddenly standing inside the familiar living room where the windows were coated in red paint. The sigils were distorted and dripping now, where the rain outside had washed them away. _Shit._ Why the hell did he use paint instead of spray paint or permanent marker or something?!

Knowing Cas was in trouble, Dean turned around to search the cabin for him and Metatron; the angel responsible for trying to kill them all week. The sound of a dog's growl – probably Dickie's – was coming from the fireplace across the room. Dean knew that if Gabriel's dog was growling, then that Meta-prick was bound to be close by. And he was right.

An unfamiliar person was a few feet in front of Dean, edging around the coffee table to sit down on the small wooden surface. Dean stood still and watched him for a second, wondering what the hell he was doing. Although he could only see Metatron from the back, Dean noticed that the angel was crossing his legs and relaxing like he was waiting on something to happen.

“All I have to do now is wait for you to die,” Metatron's squeaky voice said toward the fireplace out of Dean's view, “Then _your_ son will be _my_ son... Little Metatron Junior.”

Pure unbridled rage blazed through Dean like wildfire, causing his hand to tighten on his weapon and his teeth to grind together. His son?! _His son?!_ Oh, _hell_ no! That child belonged to _Dean and Cas_! That baby was _their_ son! He was created out of _their_ love! And 'Metatron Junior' was _not_ his name! Dean stomped toward the angel on the coffee table, raising the blade in his hand with vengeance.

“His name is _Jude,_ ” Dean barked.

Metatron spun around just in time for the end of Dean's weapon to meet his body. The man buried the sharp blade deep into the angel's chest, shoving it all the way in until the hilt wouldn't go any further. Metatron's mouth fell open in shock and he began to shine, looking like an angelic bomb that was about to blow. Dean made sure the angel's eyes were directed on him as he spoke his next words. He wanted to make sure they were the last thing that bastard ever heard.

“And he's _my_ son,” Dean finished, ripping the blade out of Metatron's chest.

As soon as the chrome weapon exited the angel's body, he exploded in a flash of light; shattering the windows of the cabin and filling the air with energy. Dean shielded his own eyes as it happened, not wanting to be blinded. After the light and heat was gone, Metatron's grace eventually fizzled out, leaving his empty vessel to spill over into the floor. His body hit the ground with a 'thud' and Dean blinked his eyes open. He was momentarily disoriented, stunned by the flash of grace.

But luckily, a sound helped Dean regain his bearings. It was the sound of a whimpering cry; a cry that he had never heard before. It was high-pitched and tiny, echoing from the fireplace. Dean slowly stepped around the coffee table, bringing the fireplace into view. The first thing he saw was Cas's face. The angel was extremely pale; so sick and drained that his blue eyes looked gray. He was curled up into a ball on the floor and shaking violently, surrounded by a pool of blood. God, it was _everywhere_ ; glistening red liquid soaking into the wood floor like paint. But as frightened, weak, and shaky as he was, the moment Cas looked up at Dean, happiness and relief blossomed on his frail features.

“Dean,” he breathed, smiling a bit.

Cas carefully let his legs slide out in front of him and straightened his back, unfolding his body to reveal the blood-stained trench coat in his lap. Dean's eyes traveled down to the ruined fabric that Cas was holding in his trembling arms and realized that the whimpering sound was coming from inside it. The coat was wrapped around something small. Something wiggling and making noise...

“ _Oh my God_ ,” Dean said breathlessly.

The chrome blade dropped out of his hand and rolled across the floor as he stared down at the angel against the fireplace. Dean had finally put all the pieces together. The blood on the floor – _all of that blood_ – was from Cas. Cas had already delivered the baby. There was a gash in the top of the angel's stomach and it was still oozing underneath his hand. But the baby wasn't in there anymore. He was inside the trench coat in Cas's arms. Their son was already born and he was whimpering quietly.

For a second, Dean was frozen in place, unable to move or speak. He only blinked down at Cas and the moving trench coat as he listened to the tiny noises coming from it. Moisture was quickly rising up in his eyes, distorting his vision and making Cas look blurry. Holy shit. Their kid was here. Dean's son was right in front of him. After taking a breath, Dean eventually blinked the tears out of his eyes and forced himself to walk toward his angel.

“Cas,” he said quietly, falling to his knees by the fireplace.

Dean couldn't think of anything else to say. And luckily, Cas didn't speak either. He only shifted on the floor and raised his shaking arms, offering the wiggling trench coat to Dean. The man gulped hard as he quickly took the bundled up fabric into his own hands, being extremely gentle to keep the baby safe. He brought the bloody trench coat close to his own chest and peered down inside – and saw his child for the first time.

The baby was wet and covered in various fluids but his facial features were clear. God, he looked so much like _Cas_ ; with those big beautiful eyes and wet dark hair. But Dean could see some of his own features, too. His nose, his mouth, his chin – they all favored his father. Dean and Cas's child was the perfect blend of both of them, just like Dean knew he would be.

Dean was barely aware that tears were slipping down his face when he smiled down at the little baby in his arms. The infant had relaxed inside the trench coat and his eyes were focused on Dean's face. He was staring up at Dean in wonder while his tiny fingers curled around the hem of the tan fabric that swaddled him. God, his fingers were so _tiny_. So small and short and fragile. Dean reached up to touch the edge of his son's hand – and the baby grabbed hold of his finger. Fresh tears oozed from Dean's eyes and he chuckled breathlessly with delight as the baby's whole hand gently clutched his finger.

“Hey, Jude,” Dean said, his voice cracking.

The baby didn't reply to Dean's voice. He only gripped the man's finger a little tighter and stared up at him with eyes that resembled Cas's. Oh, God, Dean was never going to be able to resist those beautiful eyes. Dean raised his head to look at Cas, feeling like the happiest man on earth. Cas smiled back as best he could while he held pressure against his own wound. The angel was crying too, making his pale face glisten with tears.

“He's... he's perfect, Cas,” Dean whispered.

Cas gave a nod, agreeing with Dean's statement. It looked like the guy was about to fall over at any second so Dean quickly shifted to sit beside him on the floor. When Dean was close enough, Cas rested his head on the man's shoulder and joined him in looking at their child. Dean's eyes fell back to the baby in his arms and all he could do was smile. He couldn't get over how tiny Jude was. The little baby was so small and fragile, like a glass ornament that could easily break. But Jude was _safe_ , now. His parents had made sure of that.

“I'm here now, son. And I'm never gonna leave you again,” Dean promised, wanting him to know.

Inside the trench coat, the baby gave a huge yawn and blinked his eyes closed. Jude's tiny hand was still clinging to Dean's finger, even though he wasn't looking up at him anymore. God, he was so _perfect_. Dean just wanted to hold him and stare at him for the rest of his life...

A sudden gust of wind came from across the room and Dean and Cas both raised their heads toward the sound. Gabriel and Sam appeared near the doorway with their arms locked around each other. It was the first time Dean saw his brother since he was taken away to be tortured, but by some miracle, Sammy looked surprisingly well. He didn't appear to have any major injuries or wounds like Dean had feared. Apart from being shaken up, Sam looked totally fine, and Dean was pretty sure it was because Gabriel had healed him.

Sam and Gabriel both looked around for Dean and Cas before they finally spotted them near the fireplace. As soon as he saw the rest of his family, Dean wanted to spring to his feet and show off his kid. He wanted to present his little swaddled baby to his brother and show him how beautiful and tiny the little guy was. But Cas's weary head was still resting on Dean's shoulder and the man didn't want to disturb the weak angel. Luckily, Gabriel and Sam came to them instead.

The look on Sam's face was priceless. Dean had never seen such a mixture of pride, awe, and relief in his little brother's eyes before. A smile was trying to grow across his mouth as he drank in the sight of the little hand clutching Dean's finger.

“ _Oh my God_ ,” Sam breathed, his voice still a little hoarse.

“I know,” Dean agreed with a nod, making more of his own tears fall.

Gabriel stepped up beside Sam and looked down at Jude too, before his eyes traveled to Dean's side. The happiness had fled his golden features and he suddenly looked really worried – almost heartbroken. Dean blinked strangely at the motionless archangel, wondering why he looked so sad all of the sudden.

The man quickly followed the archangel's line of sight to his side, where Cas's head was propped up on Dean's shoulder. Cas looked paler than ever now, but his hand was no longer holding the open wound on his stomach. It had fallen limp in his lap... and his blue eyes were closed. Cas was very still; so still that Dean couldn't even tell if the guy was breathing or not. Panic flashed through Dean in an instant as he stared at the unmoving angel next to him.

“Cas?” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for this cliffhanger, too. But I promise everything will be okay. <3 As for Crowley's line: “Hell sends its love,” there is actually a scene that explains that particular line. But I've tacked it onto the end of this story. You'll get to see it eventually ;) And, ahhhh. I've been wanting to kill Metatron since the last episode of season eight and it feels so good to finally get rid of that bastard. (Even if it's only in fanfiction. ha.) :) I hope you guys enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. :) Thank you all so much for all your loyal support!


	13. Chapter 13

The sound of an infant's cry stirred Castiel's senses to life. It was a small cry; more of a whimpering noise than an actual scream. And the sound slowly pulled the angel out of unconsciousness as if it were dragging him up from the depths of the ocean. The cry was raising Cas to the surface little by little, growing louder and more acute. Though he felt quite heady and lost, Castiel attempted to focus on the sound, hoping it would bring him out of his disorienting stupor so that he could open his own eyes.

The cry was originating from a close source, perhaps a mere few feet away. And its heartbreaking tone was beginning to cause the angel to experience a reaction of urgency. The infant was calling out for help. It wanted to be picked up; to be held and given affection. Castiel could feel the baby yearning for its parent – yearning for _him_ – but the angel was trapped inside his own body, unable to lend aid due to his own physical weakness. Castiel wanted to help, but he couldn't. Oh, if he could just open his eyes... If he could only lift his hand... If he could just roll toward the baby's direction...

“Whoa there, little man. Take it easy. Daddy's here.”

There was a new voice in the room, now. And Castiel knew that voice by heart. That was _Dean's_ voice; the voice of his most beloved human. After hearing Dean's small sentence, Castiel suddenly found the strength he needed to get his eyes open. The angel slowly parted his eyelids and blinked his sight into focus as the baby continued to whine. The blurry scene around him eventually took shape and Castiel found himself inside a fairly lit room. Natural sunlight was cascading in from a window nearby, illuminating the space with a bright glow. Cas's eyes flickered down to his own body and he found himself laying inside a comfortable bed. He was wearing a white shirt with long sleeves and was covered by quilted blankets. Oddly enough, the first thing the angel noticed about himself was the fact that his stomach was flat. Wasn't his stomach supposed to be large? Wasn't he supposed to be pregnant?

It was then that Castiel remembered all of the events that had taken place inside the cabin.

He suddenly recalled delivering his own child on the floor near the fireplace. Castiel could still remember feeling the raw pain of forced labor with an angel blade, and hearing the fluids gush across the floor, and holding his child for the first time. Cas remembered that Metatron had broken into the cabin too, if only for a brief moment. And _Dean_. Oh, seeing Dean meet his own child was the best thing Castiel had ever witnessed... How long ago did all of those events take place? And where was Castiel now? Why was he laying in bed? Why was he still breathing? Castiel was convinced that giving birth would be the last thing he ever did... So how was he still alive?

“Shhh. Hey, it's okay,” Dean's voice cooed from across the room, “You're all clean now, see? You've gotta stop crying or you're gonna wake up your Papa.”

Castiel finally managed to roll his head to the side, where he beheld Dean's clothed back. The man was standing near the wall next to a tall white bassinet. It was the same bassinet that Bobby had given them during the baby shower. Both of Dean's hands were down inside the tall crib, attempting to console the crying baby. Castiel gulped as he watched the man and his child. Papa? Wasn't that the title they had chosen for Castiel? Was Dean talking to their child about him? The baby's crying grew more frantic.

“What's the matter, huh? Here,” the man said, gently raising the baby into his arms, “Let's go sit by the window for a while.”

Castiel watched patiently from the bed as Dean carried the small newborn across the room. He grabbed a pacifier from the bookshelf on the way as he came to rest in a rocking chair by the window, where sunlight was flowing in from outside. Dean shifted the fussy baby into the crook of his arm before giving him the pacifier. The infant's cries instantly ceased when he was given the rubber object.

Castiel blinked toward the small newborn from a distance, studying him with approval. The baby was completely dry, clean, and wearing fresh new clothing. His skin looked soft and healthy and his eyes were large and open. Once again, Castiel was rendered speechless by the mere sight of his own child. Jude was beautiful and perfect, just like his human father... Dean slowly rocked back and forth in the wooden chair as he smiled down at the infant in his arms. There was an unmistakable joy in his features; a sense of pride and affection.

“That's better, huh?” Dean smirked.

The baby only blinked up at Dean with wet eyes as they rocked back and forth. Castiel watched the two of them in silence. The angel was still too weak to speak or move, but watching Dean bond with their son made him feel relaxed. There were many questions buzzing around in the angel's mind but they all became unimportant for the moment. Watching over his family was the most important thing to Castiel right now.

“You sure like staring at me, don't you?” Dean said quietly to the baby, “You're just like your Papa.”

Castiel smiled, knowing that Dean was referring to him. There was a brief moment of silence in which Dean's smirk dimmed a bit. He was staring down at the baby with genuineness and honesty as he rocked a little slower.

“Listen, Jude, while I've got you here, there are some things I need to talk to you about,” he began, his voice low and soft, “First, I want to say that, uh... I'm sorry we don't have a house. I know it'll be tough for you not having a bedroom of your own. But I've got a pretty sweet '67 Chevy Impala that I think you'll like... Hell, I might even let you drive her one day... Maybe...”

The angel eyed the man in the chair, wondering why he was saying these things to an infant. Jude's mind was too small to comprehend the concept of driving. But perhaps Dean knew this. Perhaps he was saying these things for bonding purposes. Castiel continued to listen to the one-sided conversation, wanting to hear more.

“Something else you should know too, is that your parents don't have real jobs like other kid's parents do. Me, your Papa, and your uncles are all hunters,” Dean went on, nodding a bit, “We track down bad guys and, uh, take care of them... You won't have to worry about it until you're older, but I figure you should know about it now. So, if one of us is ever covered in blood or shooting a gun or speaking in Latin or something, don't freak out. It's all part of the job, okay?”

Jude didn't reply but his eyes were fully focused on Dean, watching his mouth move with extreme curiosity.

“Oh. And, guns? Yeah, I'm gonna teach you how to use them,” Dean nodded, “But, I'm gonna teach you how to ride a bike, too. And I'm gonna teach you all about ACDC and Led Zeppelin and why they are the best bands ever. I'm gonna teach you how to draw a devil's trap, soak bullets in salt, and dress your own wounds... But I'm also gonna teach you how to drive a stick shift and how to pick up girls – or boys. Hey, I'm not gonna judge you. You can flirt with whoever you want. It's fine with me.”

Castiel smiled again. He was very proud of Dean for being so open and honest with their child. Even if Jude wasn't able to comprehend what was being said, he could still hear Dean's voice; hear his honesty and love. And that alone was enough to make Castiel feel delighted.

“Listen, son,” Dean almost whispered, as he reached up to stroke Jude's soft hair, “No matter what happens, I'm always gonna love you. Whatever you do, wherever you go, just remember that I'm here for you. I'm always gonna answer the phone when you call, I'm always gonna help you when you're in a tight spot, and I've always got your back. I'm your dad, little man. And I love you with all my heart... And I'm pretty sure your Papa feels the same way.”

Castiel gulped, feeling as though a large blockage was forming in his throat. The angel wanted to speak. He wanted to agree with Dean's statement and tell Jude of his own love, but he couldn't find his voice. Hoping to gain strength, Castiel shifted in the bed and attempted to sit up. His entire body was weak and frail but he forced himself to move anyway, wanting to make his presence known. From the rocking chair, Dean caught sight of Castiel's movement and spun around to meet eyes with him. Surprise and excitement lit up the man's face as he smiled at the sitting angel.

“Hey,” he grinned, “you're awake!”

Castiel smiled back at Dean's enthusiasm but winced in sudden discomfort. A sharp pain had echoed through his body from his stomach, causing him to brace his hand against the area. The ache was coming from the same spot where he had sliced himself open to deliver his child and it still hurt acutely. Dean rose to his feet almost instantly, cradling the baby close to his chest.

“No, don't try to get up, Cas. We'll come to you,” he compromised.

The angel shifted into a more comfortable position on the bed as Dean came over to sit next to him. In his arms, Jude remained quiet, still focused on the pacifier and Dean's face. Now that the baby was closer, Cas's eyes instantly dropped to take in the whole sight of him again. The last time Cas saw his son, the infant was naked, wet, and covered in blood. But now, Jude was dry, dressed, and calm. His features were clearer and more recognizable now that he was clean. And the stark difference made Castiel wonder -

“How... how long have I... been asleep?” the angel asked, his voice low and hoarse, “What happened, Dean?”

Dean reached back and wrapped his free arm around the angel's back, tugging him into a slight embrace. There was a look of comfort and relief in his emerald eyes, as if he was happy to see Castiel staring back at him.

“You've been out for a day or two,” Dean answered quietly, “You passed out after I got back to the cabin. And it gave me one hell of a scare, Cas. I thought you were dead,” he whispered breathlessly, looking genuinely pained, “But Gabe was able to heal you. He said it was gonna take a few days for your grace to bounce back though, so we've been letting you sleep to build up your strength.”

Castiel only gave a single nod. The angel was genuinely surprised. He wasn't expecting to wake up at all, let alone wake up with his grace still intact. In all honesty, once he saw Jude in Dean's arms, Castiel had given up his fight. He was ready and willing to meet his own death when his son was in the safety of Dean's embrace. But against all odds, Castiel was somehow able to pull through. How did Gabriel do it? And where was Gabriel, now? Was he safe? Was Sam safe?

“Gabriel and Sam... Are they okay?” Castiel asked.

“Oh, yeah. They're fine. They're in there having breakfast now,” Dean said, briefly waving toward the door, “The angels caught me and Sam and they dinged Sammy up pretty good. But Gabriel healed him and he's fine now. Man, you should have seen what Gabriel did to those angel bastards, Cas. He absolutely _slaughtered_ them. Gabe was so pissed, it felt like an earthquake had hit -”

Jude began whining and wiggling in Dean's arm, interrupting the man's story. Dean and Castiel both looked down at the frustrated infant, seeing that his tears were about to start up again. The angel's heart ached. He didn't like to see his son in such discomfort. Dean sighed as he repositioned the baby in his grasp.

“He's been cranky all day,” the man informed, “I think he missed you, Cas. Do you want to hold him?”

Castiel instantly nodded and held out his arms. _Of course_ he wanted to hold his son! Dean smiled a bit as he shifted Jude out of his own arms and into Castiel's. Though his own limbs felt weak, the angel made sure to cradle Jude's fragile neck and back as he received him, wanting to keep him as comfortable as possible.

Once the baby was in his possession again, Castiel stared down at his infant son in wonder. Cas was still amazed by the mere sight of Jude; of his tiny fingers and familiar features. He appeared to be the perfect blend of his parents even now, at the beginning stage of growth. Jude stretched his arms and legs inside Castiel's grasp and gave a large yawn which caused the pacifier to fall out of his mouth. Luckily, he didn't seem to want the pacifier anymore. He only closed his tiny mouth and blinked his eyes shut, relaxing into a mellow pose.

“Hello, Jude,” Castiel breathed.

The baby, although he seemed to recognize Cas's voice, remained still and began to drift to sleep. It was as if Jude had finally found the comfortable spot he had been looking for – inside Castiel's arms. An overwhelming sense of unity and wholeness filled the angel up as he stared down at his peaceful child. For an entire week, Castiel had been dreading his own outcome, fearful that he might die after childbirth and never see his family again. And yet, he now found himself sitting in bed with the two beings he adored the most in all the world. Despite all of the hardships he had faced during pregnancy, Castiel had been blessed with a perfect outcome. An outcome he had always hoped for...

Being gentle, Castiel carefully leaned down to press his lips to his son's forehead, breathing in deep the heavenly scent of his soft skin and fine hair.

* * *

Dean smiled with pride as he watched Cas lean over to kiss Jude on the forehead. Seeing his angel finally get to hold their baby made him feel so much better. Dean had a couple of pretty long, sleepless nights since Jude was born. Trying to take care of a newborn baby by himself was no walk in the park, especially with the added weight of worrying about Cas. But seeing his favorite angel and their infant son together again made it all worth it.

After Cas gave Jude a kiss, he leaned back up to stare at him with those signature blue eyes. Dean glanced between the angel and the sleeping baby in his arms, watching them while his mind wandered. He was suddenly thinking about his feelings from last week when he first found out that he was going to be a dad. God, he had been so shocked and scared, ready to run away instead of face it. But now that his son was here, Dean felt stupid for ever being scared. Having a baby wasn't _scary_. It was _amazing_ in every sense of the word. A week ago, Dean thought that getting to see Cas's wings was the best Valentine's gift ever. But he couldn't have been more wrong... The man shook his head a little bit as he leaned closer to his little family. Cas's sight flickered up to his stare and his head tilted with curiosity.

“What is it, Dean?” the angel asked.

“Nothing,” the man replied, “It's just... I was wrong about something.”

“Wrong about what?” Cas pressed.

Dean took a breath and reached up to cradle the baby's soft, warm head.

“This,” he grinned, staring down at his son, “ _This_ is the best Valentine's day gift ever.”

Luckily, Cas seemed to understand the reference Dean was making because a smile lit up his pretty face. His blue eyes dropped back down to the baby in his arms and he seemed to agree with Dean's statement. Jude really was the greatest gift ever. Everything they went through to have him was totally worth it.

“I was wrong about something, too,” Cas admitted quietly.

Dean raised his head to look at his angel where he saw hints of comfort and relief in Cas's expression. The man tightened his arm around the angel's back.

“What were you wrong about, Cas?” he asked.

Cas's throat quivered with a gulp as he shared a look of honesty with Dean. The man could tell that the angel was hesitating to say it, but he eventually let himself speak.

“I... I thought that I was going to die,” he confessed, “In fact, I was planning on it all week.”

Dean's mouth fell open in horror. What?! Cas thought he was supposed to _die_ after having the baby? And he had been thinking about it – _planning on it_ – all freaking week? Seriously? _Why_?

“How – how could you ever think that, Cas?” Dean breathed.

The angel glanced back down at the baby in his arms as he reached up to touch Jude's tiny hand. Cas took a long, deep breath before he replied.

“I had to extract him with an angel blade, Dean,” he explained softly, “It was the only way to free him from my grace... And I thought that after our child was born, my purpose would be served. That I would die and my mission would be complete. But I suppose I was wrong.”

Dean gulped hard, feeling like his heart was breaking. How could Cas say these things? Hell, how could he even think them? Cas didn't just fall to earth to have a baby. No, he was put here for so much more than that... Wanting to get Cas's attention, Dean reached up to take the angel's pale face in his hands. He made sure that Cas's beautiful blue eyes were locked on his own as he gathered the words he needed to say.

“Cas,” he began, stroking the angel's cheekbones with his thumbs, “Your purpose is to be here with _me_. Your mission won't be complete until I don't need you anymore and I'm _always_ going to need you. I couldn't make it one day without you next to me. Baby, I love you more than anything. If you ever feel like you need to be reminded of what your purpose is, you don't have to look any further than right here.”

Dean let one of his hands drop to Cas's arm, where he was still cradling their baby close. He really hoped that Cas would understand how important he was in the grand scheme of things; how much Dean and their newborn son needed him. A soft smile eventually spread across Cas's lips and his blue eyes started to water a little bit. He nuzzled his head against Dean's palm a bit while he stared at him with admiration.

“I love you too, Dean,” he whispered.

Dean smirked as he leaned forward to press their mouths together. He made sure to keep it slow and soft, because he knew that Cas was probably weak. Their tongues met briefly, reviving the familiar taste of affection in Dean's mouth. The man pulled back enough to rest his head against the angel's as they both looked down at their son, who had yawned again. Jude's hand wandered into his mouth and he sucked on his own fingers, looking like he was about to fall asleep.

“He seems content,” Cas mentioned, caressing Jude's tiny hand, “I believe he is happiest when his parents are together.”

“Me too,” Dean agreed.

While the two of them stared down at their new baby, there was a gentle knock at the door. Dean and Cas looked across the room just in time to see the door open a little and Gabriel poke his head inside. As soon as the archangel saw that Cas was awake, a huge smile lit up his face.

“Cassie!” he exclaimed, leaning back out to yell down the hallway, “Hey, Sammy-boy! Cas is awake!”

“Well, the baby's _not_ awake so keep it down,” Dean warned in a hard whisper.

Gabriel nodded and winked a little to show that he acknowledged Dean's warning. The sound of heavy footsteps came down the hall and Sam and Gabriel walked into the room together. Dean had already seen both of them earlier at breakfast but he knew that Cas hadn't seen them in a while. The angel's soft smile widened when he looked up to see Sam and Gabe. Sammy smiled too, as he wandered over to the bed with his archangel boyfriend.

“Hey, Cas. How are you feeling?” Sam asked.

“I'm fine,” Cas answered, “How are you, Sam? I know that you were hurt...”

Sam shrugged off the mention of his torture like it was nothing; like only a truly experienced hunter would. The ridiculously tall man gently sat down on the end of the bed, accompanied by Gabriel who basically plopped himself down near Sam.

“I'm okay. Nothing a little grace couldn't heal,” Sam answered, shooting Gabe a wink.

“Yeah. I gave him the good ol' magic touch. More than once,” Gabriel purred seductively.

Sam and Gabe were giving each other lusty looks and it was starting to gross Dean out.

“Ugh. That's enough. No sexual innuendos in front of my kid,” Dean grumbled, rolling his eyes.

Cas gave a small chuckle and the sound made Dean's heart tingle with delight. He was so glad that his angel was awake and feeling better.

“Oh, come on. Junior's gonna have to learn about the birds and the bees somehow,” Gabriel pointed out, “It's better that he learns it from his family. More specifically from his handsome uncle Gabe and his sexy uncle Sammy.”

“God help us all.”

Everyone turned around to look toward the doorway, where Bobby's deep voice had come from. The old man was leaning up against the wall with a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. He shook his head with an amused smirk as he glanced between Sam and Gabe. Gabriel waved a dismissing hand in Bobby's direction.

“Keep your comments to yourself, old man. This moose and I could rock a bedroom waaay better than you ever could,” he teased, sticking out his tongue for good measure.

Bobby only rolled his eyes at Gabriel's playful statements and took a sip from his mug. Dean eyed the old man from across the room, noticing that there was something different about him...

“Where's your hat, Bobby?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Sam jumped in, sounding just as curious, “I haven't seen you wear it since we got here.”

A red tint instantly sprang up on Bobby's bearded face as he briefly raised his hand to feel his own hat-less head. He patted his thinning hair and looked down in embarrassment.

“I... I just didn't want to wear it today, is all,” he mumbled.

Dean narrowed his eyes, feeling skeptical. Bobby never took his hat off. Was he planning on going somewhere fancy or something? Although Dean was curious about the real reason Bobby's hat was missing, he was distracted by Dickie. The little dog suddenly jumped up on the bed and timidly walked over to sniff in Jude's general direction. Dean was a little nervous about letting a dog near his newborn child, but he allowed the little dog to come closer anyway. Dickie had earned his spot as part of the family, especially after staying with Cas and protecting him from that Meta-prick.

“It's good to see you,” Cas said to the dog.

While Cas reached out to pet Dickie, Bobby's cell phone rang. The Winchesters all looked up to watch the old man answer his phone, wondering who was calling him.

“Hello?” he said, his eyes widening a little bit, “You? … Uh, yeah. He's here. Why? … Okay, hold on.”

Bobby walked over to hold the phone out to Gabriel. The archangel – and everyone else – was pretty surprised. Who was wanting to talk to Gabe? And why did they call Bobby's phone to get a hold of him? Though he seemed confused, Gabriel took the phone and answered it anyway.

“Sexiest angel in the garrison speaking,” he sang.

There was a brief pause in which Gabriel's facial expressions shifted from happy-go-lucky to straight-up pissed. The archangel spun around to shoot a fierce glare to his dog on the bed.

“ _Dickie!_ You knocked up a _hellhound?! What the hell is the matter with you?!_ ” Gabriel barked.

As soon as he heard Gabriel's angered tone, Dickie ran and jumped off the bed, diving underneath it to hide from his owner. Sam and Bobby's mouths fell open and Cas looked confused. Dean, on the other hand, wasn't very surprised. He always knew Gabe's dog would hump the wrong thing eventually. Inside Cas's arms, Jude wiggled awake and was starting to whine a little bit. Gabriel's loud voice had startled him and he clearly didn't like being woken up. Cas instantly bounced the baby a little bit, trying to calm him down. Dean wanted his kid to have some peace and quiet to rest and Jude couldn't sleep if Gabriel kept yelling.

“Hey, can you take that call outside, please? The baby needs some sleep,” Dean asked.

Sam held up a hand to let Dean know that he was going to take care of it as he stood up and ushered Gabriel toward the door. Bobby stepped out in the hallway too, probably wanting to make sure he got his cell phone back in one piece. While Gabriel started off for a different room, Sam paused to look back at the bed.

“Come on, Dickie,” he called wearily, “You're gonna have to own up to it eventually. Might as well get it over with now.”

Dean watched as the dog slowly moseyed out from under the bed. Dickie's head was down and his tail was between his legs while he made his way out the door, walking like he was headed for the vet or something. Sam only shook his head at the dog in amusement as he closed the door behind them.

Once Dean and Cas were alone with their baby again, silence eventually returned to the room and Jude began to calm down. While Cas consoled the whimpering infant, something on the floor caught Dean's eye. It was Cas's jar of honey; the same one that Dean had bought him for Valentine's day. The jar must have rolled out from under the bed when Dickie scurried underneath it. Dean leaned over, picked the jar up, and dusted off the glass. How did it get under the bed? It must have rolled under there when Dean was putting Jude's bassinet together.

The man shrugged off the coincidence and leaned over to place the jar of honey on Cas's bedside table. Sunlight from the window shined through the honey in the glass, causing the sunbeam to cast an amber-colored glow on the baby. Dean and Cas both smiled down at their son resting in the sunshine, watching him drift back to sleep.

“Dean,” Cas murmured softly, “Will you teach me the lullaby that you always sing to him?”

Dean smiled and nodded as he nestled closer to his little family. He was more than happy to teach his angel the words to his mother's favorite song. The man cleared his throat and looked down at his son's precious face before starting to quietly sing.

“ _Hey Jude... Don't make it bad_ ,” Dean began, seeing Cas's eyes on him, “ _Take a sad song, and make it better..._ ”

The two of them smiled at each other again, both beaming with pride as Dean sang. Between them, the baby snuggled into a more comfortable position and blinked his eyes closed. His little chest rose and fell with slow breaths as he carefully fell asleep. Jude was finally calm and content in the arms of his loving parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I very much hope that this ending was satisfactory in terms of wrapping up all the loose ends. Dean's going to be a great daddy. Cas is going to be a great Papa. Sam and Gabe are going to be awesome uncles. All the bad guys are gone. In short, everything is going to be fine for little Jude Robert Winchester. He'll be raised well. ;) I'm so sorry that you had to ride a roller coaster of feels to get here. But now that you're here, I hope the ride was worth it. :) That Crobby scene is the only thing left for this part. I hope you enjoy it as well! :)


	14. Bonus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an additional scene that I tacked on the end because I felt it needed written out. (Plus, people were asking for it. lol) ;) Everything you are about to read takes place between chapters 9 and 10 and is in Bobby's POV. With that said, I now present to you: The off-screen event that led to Crowley helping the Winchesters. :) Please enjoy!)

The ache in Bobby's lower back was nice and painful by the time he made it to the Impala with an armful of baby stuff. His bad knee was starting to give him hell too, aching all the way down his leg. But he pushed through the pain like he always did. Minor aches and pains of getting old were small potatoes compared to what Cas was getting ready to go through...

“Here,” Bobby said, finally handing off his load to Sam, “That's the last box.”

The boy took the diapers and clothes and stowed them safely into the trunk of the car before reaching up to shut the hatch. All of the baby stuff from Bobby's kitchen was now in the Impala, ready to be taken to Rufus's cabin. Sam turned to clutch Bobby's shoulder and give him a genuine smile.

“Thanks, Bobby. Are you sure you don't want to come with us?” he asked.

Bobby firmly shook his head. He wasn't planning on going anywhere until he had a solid lead on the bastard responsible for trying to hurt his boys.

“I've got an entire library of lore and contact numbers here, Sam. Ain't no better place to start huntin' than in my own backyard.”

The kid gave a small nod to show his own agreement. They both knew that this situation needed to be nipped in the bud as soon as possible; that Metatron needed to be caught before Cas was ready to pop. Sam got that worried look in his eye when he gazed down at Bobby from above.

“Can you clean up that mess by yourself?” he asked, eyes flashing toward the house.

Bobby knew that Sam was talking about the five dead angel carcasses piled in his study like fresh road kill on the side of the highway. And honestly, he was kind of offended by Sam's question. This sure as hell wouldn't be the first time that Bobby had to burn a pile of bodies...

“Look who you're talkin' to, son,” Bobby pointed out, raising an eyebrow, “I've been cleanin' up messes since _you_ were in diapers. Pretty sure I can handle it.”

Sam nodded and smiled a bit. Passed him, through the back glass of the Impala, Bobby saw Gabriel shifting around in the passenger seat. His head of messy blonde hair was tilted down and he seemed kind of weary. Bobby hadn't known Gabriel very long. The two of them had never really had a chance to sit down, have a cup of coffee, and become familiar with each other. But being a hunter for so many years came with a hefty set of perks – including the ability to know when someone was beating himself up. And Bobby knew that was exactly what Gabriel was doing right now.

“Is he gonna be alright?” Bobby asked, nodding toward the Impala.

Sam turned to give the car a glance and look at the archangel in the front seat. The tall kid scratched the back of his head and sighed like he was worried.

“Yeah. I'm gonna try to talk him out of it,” Sam promised, starting for the driver's side, “Thanks again, Bobby. Call us when you've got something, okay?”

“Yep. Be careful out there, Sam,” Bobby called, offering a wave.

Sam waved back as he opened the door and slipped inside the car. Bobby stepped out of the way, figuring that the guy was going to need room to back the Impala up. But Gabriel reached forward to grab the dashboard and the whole car disappeared instead. Bobby blinked at the sudden empty spot in his driveway before shaking his head. Hmph. Angels and Winchesters. He would never understand either...

Bobby braced a hand against the aching part of his spine as he turned to face his house. In the back of his mind, he knew that those dead bodies were starting to stink up his study. He was going to have to break out the bleach, scrub the floors, dig another huge hole in the backyard, and somehow carry all those heavy corpses by himself. His weary old body was already starting to regret refusing Sam's help. But he knew that he had to send the kid away... because getting a head start on the hunt wasn't the only reason why he wanted to come home. There was something else he needed to do that he knew the boys would never approve of. But to hell with approval. Bobby Singer didn't need no approval. He just needed results and the guarantee that his adopted kids would be alright no matter what...

With a heavy sigh, Bobby turned away from his house and started toward his garage instead. It was the same garage that he had used the day before and he knew exactly what was in it. A freshly drawn devil's trap that just needed a little touch up and all the ingredients he needed to perform another summoning ritual. Working with a demon was the last thing he wanted to do. But when the playing field is overrun with murderous angels and your whole team is under fire, what else is there to do? Sit on the bench and twiddle your thumbs? Hell no. The only thing left to do was pull an ace. Even if that ace happened to come from the bowels of hell itself.

The garage was dark, cold, and empty, just the way Bobby left it. The fluorescent light flickered and buzzed to life when he flipped the light switch on, carefully brightening the room with a dull glow. The painted devil's trap was still drawn on the floor, only broken in one spot where Bobby had rubbed the paint out with his foot. The man grabbed the can of paint and hobbled over to the drawing to connect the lines again. Once the trap was reset he walked over to the workbench, where all the ingredients were still sitting out. He quickly did the old song and dance; tossing all the crap into the bowl, striking a match, and saying the Latin phrase.

The spell was over in a matter of seconds, but the waiting had just begun. Bobby knew it was gonna be awhile before Crowley decided to show his face – if he ever _did_ decide to show his face, that is. The title of 'King' had gone straight to that bastard's head and Bobby knew it. But luckily, the old man was a patient hunter. He would wait in the garage all night if he had to. Dead bodies in his study be damned. Bobby stepped over to a stool and sat down to give his bad knee some relief as he blinked lazily toward the empty trap in the middle of the room. Yep. This was probably gonna take awhile. He should have grabbed a case of beer and a crossword puzzle before settling into his seat...

“Summoning the same demon twice in two days? My word, you _must_ be getting desperate.”

Bobby spun around on his stool at the sound of Crowley's voice. The demon had appeared near the garage door instead of inside the trap. His dark eyes and arrogant smile were full of charm as he smirked at Bobby from across the room. And Bobby felt like a total jackass. Dammit, why didn't he hide the trap somewhere else? Crowley wasn't dumb enough to pop up inside the same trap twice. Bobby didn't have the upper hand now. He was basically at Crowley's mercy if the demon decided to take action against him.

But luckily, it didn't seem like Crowley was going to do anything rash. He just stood by the door with a smirk, wearing his usual black suit and red tie with his hands stuffed inside his pockets. Bobby eyed the demon for a second while he carefully got to his feet. Crowley looked awfully happy and it made Bobby skeptical. What the hell was he so damn cheery about? Was he happy that things were turning south for the Winchesters?

“Hello again, old friend,” the demon cooed, batting his long eyelashes, “How have you been for the past few hours since we last saw one another? You're looking well, if I may say. Did you get enough sleep? Walk the dog, perhaps?”

“Cut the shit,” Bobby grumbled, narrowing his eyes, “You already know why I brought you here.”

Crowley's annoying smirk only widened. The demon sighed and took a few steps into the light, letting the florescence glow shine on his dark hair. Bobby had instinctively taken stock of the weapons at his disposal, though they weren't much. He had a canister of holy water in his pocket and a pistol full of salt-soaked bullets in his waistband. But neither of them would kill Crowley. They would only stun him for a few seconds, long enough for Bobby to make a quick getaway if he needed to. The only option that Bobby had to stay safe was to talk civilly with the demon. And hopefully make a deal...

“Indeed, I do,” Crowley purred, his thick accent echoing around the empty garage like a soft melody, “You hunters are always asking for the same old things. ' _Save my family. Save my friends. Save everyone I love. Blah blah blah._ ' It gets boringly redundant after a while. But I must admit, even after all this time, I still adore seeing the desperation in their pitiful eyes. The pure emotional urgency of it all. That's the part that gets me out of my four-poster bed every morning. And seeing that look in your lovely eyes, Robert, truly makes it all worth while.”

Bobby gulped under Crowley's intense stare. There weren't many people in the world that had the ability to make a mighty full-grown hunter like Bobby Singer feel like a small red-faced school boy. But Crowley had somehow managed to do it. Bobby couldn't remember the last time his cheeks had flushed with heat and his heart raced with nervousness. But no matter how quick-witted and clever that demonic bastard was, Bobby was bound and determined not to let Crowley get the best of him.

“Well, good for you,” the hunter spat, “At least you've got a reason to get up every mornin' that doesn't include pamperin' your own ass.”

Crowley chuckled a little bit, making the devilish sound echo hauntingly through the garage. Even though the bastard was laughing at him, Bobby stood his ground. Crowley may have been able to make the man blush, but Bobby sure as hell wasn't afraid of no demon.

“Ah. That's what I love about you, Robert Singer. Even when you're gazing into the face of hell, you're still able to retain your ruthless, stoic composure,” Crowley smiled.

Crowley's sentence sort of caught Bobby off guard. One of the words had stuck out like a sore thumb and the hunter couldn't believe he heard it come out of a demon's mouth. Love? Did Crowley seriously just use the word _love_? How could a satanic creature like him ever say a holy word like that? Bobby shook his head and scoffed loudly in disbelief. Crowley's smile dimmed a little bit and he eyed the hunter with confusion.

“What?” he prompted in that velvety accent.

“You don't love anything,” Bobby accused firmly.

A look of bewilderment flashed across the demon's face as if he didn't quite understand what Bobby was talking about. Crowley lifted a thin eyebrow and narrowed his dark eyes a bit.

“That's not true,” he denied, “I have a hellhound named Juliet whom I love very much.”

Bobby shook his head, feeling the urge to laugh. He should have known that the king of hell would have a hellhound on a leash...

“That don't count,” he spat.

For some reason, this discussion about love seemed to be getting under Crowley's skin. All the humor had abandoned his features and he was starting to look like an offended businessman. In the back of his mind, Bobby knew that he was probably treading on dangerous waters by correcting a demon that had the power to kill him in no time flat. But what the hell. He had threatened worst creatures before and lived to tell the tale.

“And why wouldn't that count?” Crowley nearly demanded, teetering on the verge of anger.

“'Cause you're a demon from hell and love don't exist in hell. At least, not the kinda love I'm talkin' about,” Bobby murmured.

“I see. And which version of this complex emotion are you referring to? I was under the assumption that there was only one,” Crowley growled, his eyes turning into slits.

Bobby wasn't swayed by Crowley's dark tone. The hunter just wanted to make a stupid deal and get this interaction over with, but he decided to play along with the weird conversation he was currently trapped in. Hell, it wasn't every day that he got to argue with a demon about human emotion.

“I mean _real_ love, you know? The kinda love that men sell their souls for,” he explained, “The kind of love that wakes you up at two in the mornin' and forces you to call someone just to make sure they're alright. The kind that makes you give up everything that you own – everything that you _are_ – so that someone else can be happy. I'm talkin' about pure, honest, unconditional, selfless love... And it can't grow in a place like hell. That'd be like tryin' to plant a tree in a sandbox. It won't even take root.”

Crowley's eyes softened a bit but his lips stayed tucked together. Bobby had never been good at reading someone else's feelings just by looking at them. But now, as he stared at the demon in his garage, Bobby could tell that his little speech had an impact on Crowley. The guy in the black suit just stood there and let his eyes wander, like he was thinking hard about everything he had just heard. Bobby casually cleared his throat and looked away, feeling another ache tingle up his back as he shifted around nervously. He didn't mean to go off on a rant like that and he knew it was about time to get back to the matter at hand.

“Anyway,” the man mumbled, trying to get back on track, “I didn't call you here to chit-chat about nonsense. I called you to make a deal.”

“Yes. I know,” Crowley said calmly, seeming to regain his arrogant composure as he looked back up at the hunter in front of him, “You no longer have the power to protect the squirrel, the moose, and their birds from the big bad wolf upstairs, so you want me to do it for you.”

Bobby huffed a weary sigh and tilted his hat up a bit. Boy, there was no hiding the truth from a demon, was there? Crowley must have smelled his desperation from a hundred miles away...

“Can you do it or not?” he asked.

“For a price,” Crowley replied slyly.

“So, what's it gonna be? My soul? My house? My first born child? 'Cause it might be a while on that last one,” Bobby said, his tone flat.

The hunter knew that the price on this deal was going to be pretty high. And honestly, he didn't mind trading in his own soul if it meant that his boys would be okay. Deep down, he knew that each one of the Winchesters were worth way more than his soul and hoped that he could back it up with something of value, like everything in his house and junkyard, which included some pretty rare artifacts.

But while Bobby fretted over the lofty price of his deal, a mischievous smirk had grown across Crowley's face. He didn't quite look like a demon anymore. Now, he looked more like a little teenage boy who couldn't wait to do something cheeky. Crowley removed a hand from his pocket and held it out, letting the florescence light of the garage shine on his pale skin.

“I believe I'll take that old hat you're wearing,” the demon answered.

Bobby blinked a few times, letting his mind catch up with his hearing. Huh. Maybe his sense of hearing was finally starting to go because he could have swore that Crowley just asked for his hat...

“Uh... Come again?” the old man mumbled, this time tilting his head forward to hear better.

“That hat on your head,” Crowley pointed upward, his smirk growing, “I want it.”

For a few seconds, Bobby was at a loss for words. His hat? That was it? That was the only thing Crowley wanted? No, that couldn't be right. This offer had 'bullshit' written all over it. There had to be some strings attached somewhere. Demonic deals always came with lots of strings. Especially Crowley's deals. The demon just stood there with a grin on his face, seeming pleased with himself.

“You just want... my hat?” Bobby clarified, his voice tainted with skepticism.

“Yes,” Crowley agreed, sounding overly confident.

Bobby scoffed loudly again. Yeah, right. That couldn't possibly be the only thing he wanted. What the hell was a demon going to do with an old hat?

“Why?” Bobby asked, his eyes narrowed.

“What does it matter to you, why I need things?” Crowley retorted, “Look, Singer, that hat is my price for keeping those plaid-wearing parasites safe from the scribe of God. Unless you want that angel to get to them first -”

“Okay!” Bobby interrupted, not wanting to think about his boys getting hurt, “Alright... You can have the damn hat.”

The man quickly reached up and ripped the blue fabric cap from his head and tossed it toward the demon in front of him. Crowley casually snatched the hat out of the air and smiled down at it, using his free hand to dust off the bill. Bobby gulped a little bit while he watched Crowley play with his favorite head wear. Frankly, he was still confused as to why the demon only wanted the hat and nothing else. Was Crowley going to use it for a decoy? Use it as an ingredient in a spell? Mount it on his bedroom wall? Wear it around? Hmph. The thought of a sharp-dressed guy like Crowley walking around in an old baseball cap was really strange...

“Is that it?” Bobby pressed, knowing that there was probably going to be a second part to this payment.

“Yes, this will do,” Crowley murmured.

The demon let his dark eyes flicker back up to meet the man's stare and Bobby could feel his own guts churning with distrust. Nothing about this deal seemed right. It was too good to be true. There was no way in hell that Crowley was satisfied with just a silly old hat... Was he?

“Now that I've received your payment, I suppose it's time to make this deal official,” Crowley hummed, his eyes filling with amusement.

All the blood drained from Bobby's face in an instant. Ah, hell. He had forgotten all about the way demons sealed their deals. He forgot that he had to _kiss the damn guy_ to make it stick. Son of a bitch. Why – oh, God, _why_ – why did it have to be a _kiss_? Though his stomach was already bubbling with nausea, Bobby forced himself to take a few steps forward. _Do it for Dean and Sam_ , he thought to himself, _For the boys, and the angels, and the baby they named after you..._

Bobby was about a foot away from Crowley when the demon finished closing the distance between them. He stared up at Bobby for a second, looking like he was holding down a chuckle. And before Bobby knew it, Crowley reached up to grab a handful of his shirt and yanked him downward. The man cringed and braced himself, knowing that the demon's mouth was about to collide with his own – but it didn't happen that way. Crowley's mouth had found its way to the old man's cheek, instead.

Bobby blinked down at Crowley's black suit up close, feeling confused as hell. Was Crowley doing it wrong on purpose? The demon had pressed his lips gently against the man's cheekbone, giving his bearded face a quick and careful peck. He let go and stepped away afterward, still wearing that smug look on his face. Bobby was stunned. What the hell was that? That wasn't the way demonic deals were sealed, was it? Why was Crowley being so weird? Why was the guy being so... _nice_?

“It's settled, then,” Crowley beamed, stuffing the blue hat inside his jacket pocket, “I get to keep the hat and you get to keep the Winchesters. Ugh, making sure those petulant children stay alive is going to be quite the job. I have my work cut out for me.”

Bobby only blinked slowly and stood motionless as he watched the demon back away. He had finally realized that Crowley was basically going to help him _for free_. A crossroads demon – a creature that lived for making deals to gain profit – was going to keep the Winchesters alive for no cost at all. He didn't want Bobby's soul. Hell, he probably didn't want Bobby's hat either. Maybe – just maybe – Crowley was trying to prove a point...

“Try not to go too hard on the liquor tonight, Robert,” the demon purred, turning to give Bobby a slight wave, “I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again very soon.”

Before Bobby could even summon the courage to say 'thank you,' the demon was already gone. The garage was empty and silent again, leaving the old man to stand amongst his workbenches and tools alone. He glanced around the old place for a second, unsure of what else to do. The man had just made a deal with the king of hell and paid the debt with a worthless old hat. And he was thoroughly stunned. Huh. Maybe Bobby had been wrong. Maybe demons actually could be decent people. Maybe hell wasn't void of good emotions after all...

After taking another second or two to gather himself together, Bobby slowly began to shuffle toward the garage door. A million thoughts were racing through his mind, making him question his own belief system and his trust in other people. But there was one small thing that stuck out in his awareness the most out of everything...

The old man's back wasn't hurting so much anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta love when Crowley proves someone wrong, am I right? ;) Now that line he says to Dean in chapter 12 makes sense, huh? Plus, that 'Juliet' thing finally came full circle in this added chapter, I guess. Way to go, Dickie! Lol. :D He's like the only dog in existence that has ever fooled around with a hellhound. (And a royal hellhound, at that!) I hope that you all enjoyed my very first taste of Crobby. I may even do more for them in the future. Who knows. *shrugs* :) Thank you guys so much for reading and commenting on this fic. The next part of this Series is called 'Seeds' and I will get to work on revising it soon so I can publish it here. Again, thank you all so much! I really hope you enjoyed it so far! Please let me know what you think! <3


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